by Zahra Owens
Karl nodded and Quinn returned from the front office with the resident’s list and a pen. “Here.” He gave the list to Karl. “I trust you to check everyone off. I need to make sure everyone makes it out.” Quinn missed the panic in Karl’s face as he turned around to walk to the back.
Crossing the hall where most of the residents were gathered, Quinn dialed Haden’s number from speed dial. Haden’s voice mail picked up.
“Haden? I’m sorry to call you in the middle of the night, but there’s a fire at the shelter. The fire department is on its way and we’re evacuating. I would appreciate anything you can do to help. If not, no worries. I’m fine,” Quinn added just before he clicked his phone shut. He wasn’t panicking, but he knew he’d feel better once he knew everyone was accounted for. Somewhere in the hall he found the time to mentally kick himself for letting the emergency procedures slack. He was surprised to see his security guys had done a pretty thorough job so far. After all, they weren’t professionals, but mostly ordinary guys who’d bettered their lives after years of living on the street. Soon after the fire department arrived, all the residents were accounted for. Quinn stood outside, hugging his worn coat around his shoulders, when he felt strong hands grabbing him.
“You’re freezing!”
Quinn turned around and stared straight into Haden’s shiny blue eyes. “Thank God you’re here.”
“Everything okay?” Haden asked.
“I just worry about all my people. They’re going to have to sleep rough and it’s just a week before Christmas.”
Haden rubbed Quinn’s arms to keep him warm. “I took care of that. It’s not perfect at such short notice, but my company has an empty warehouse just around the corner. It will take me some time to organize blankets and beds, but for tonight, at least they’ll be dry.”
Quinn swallowed hard. He wasn’t sure what Haden did for a living, but his clothes betrayed that it wasn’t exactly a minimum wage job and Haden was a lot more take-charge than he ever gave him credit for.
They waited for the fire department to give the all clear but the fire chief forbade them to enter the shelter once they were sure the fire was contained. He told them there was a lot of water damage and since it was an old building that meant there could be structural damage.
“We’ll come back in the morning, Quinn,” Haden said. “Let’s get you to a warm bed.”
Quinn was torn. Of course, he didn’t want to turn Haden's offer down, although he didn’t know whether Haden was offering his own bed to share or whether he was just being altruistic. On the other hand, he wanted to check on his residents, so Haden took him to the warehouse. The heating was only just enough to keep the pipes from freezing, but it was clean and dry and by the time they arrived, Karl and the security guys had helped everyone settle in. They assured him that they would manage for the night and make sure they left everything the way they found it in the morning. Karl showed him some of the bread and cheese they’d saved from the kitchen, so Quinn knew they’d have at least some sort of breakfast before leaving.
By the time Quinn was sure everything would work out, Haden had called them a cab. “You’re coming home with me,” he stated and Quinn didn’t argue. He was cold and tired and let himself be driven to the other side of the city.
The cab stopped in front of a three-story brownstone in a posh looking neighborhood. Haden let them in and he was hanging up their coats when a young man dressed in a bathrobe entered the hallway.
“Anything I can do for you, Mr. Wincott? Shall I make you some coffee?”
Haden waved him off. “That’s okay, Wilson. We’re fine; we’ll manage. Go back to sleep.”
Quinn didn’t know what he was seeing. Not only did Haden live in a big house that probably cost a fortune, he had round-the-clock staff as well. At least he hoped that “Wilson” was his servant, rather than his… boyfriend? Although Quinn didn’t know if he was all that comfortable thinking about Haden having a staff either.
Haden spotted Quinn’s confused expression.
“Wilson’s my housekeeper. He takes care of me, does my shopping, cleans my house, sorts my laundry, that sort of stuff.”
Quinn was too tired to argue, so he let Haden lead him upstairs to the bedroom, which had a little lounge next to it. He pushed Quinn into the bathroom, which was about the size of Quinn’s room at the shelter, and left him in privacy to take a warm shower. When Quinn stepped out of the glass enclosed shower cubicle, he found a plush maroon bathrobe and assorted towels. If he wasn’t so exhausted, he’d probably have more questions about all this, but right now, he took what he could get and was happy to be warm again.
In the lounge, he found Haden sitting on the couch. “I made the bed for you. I’ll sleep here on the sofa.”
“Sofa’s fine for me,” Quinn argued weakly. “You don’t have to give your bed up for me.”
Haden simply gave him a “let’s not argue about this” look and pushed him toward the bedroom. Quinn had to admit the bed looked inviting and after taking a few steps toward it, he heard the door shut behind him. After fifteen minutes of lying awake, he got up again.
“Haden? Are you still awake?” he asked quietly after walking back into the lounge.
“Yes,” Haden answered equally softly.
Quinn’s eyes were used to the dark now and he saw Haden sit up on the couch.
“Come and sleep in the bed.”
“I don’t want to….”
“I know,” Quinn interrupted. “But it’s a big bed. We can share. I promise I’ll stay on my side. Like friends.”
Haden hesitated, but he got up eventually.
They settled together on the bed, each on their own side.
“Thank you,” Quinn said, turning to face Haden, who mimicked his posture.
“For what?”
“For taking care of me and of the residents. I didn’t know what to do. It’s not snowing anymore, but it’s still really cold outside and we shelter a lot of children. I always think of the children.”
“The children are fine,” Haden assured him. He wiped a stray curl from Quinn’s forehead, a gesture that felt very intimate to Quinn.
“I’m homeless too, now.”
Haden smiled. “No, you’re not. You can stay here anytime.”
Quinn shook his head. “No, I can’t. I can’t live in a house like this and run a homeless shelter. I don’t know how you do it. Are you an heir to some fortune or something?”
“Yes,” Haden answered plainly.
“You’re kidding, right?”
Haden shook his head. “When I was sixteen, I dropped out of school, and trust me, a lot of posh, expensive schools had been trying to educate me. And then my parents died, both of them within three month of each other. I became the sole heir to their fortune, which was old money, industrial-age money. So all I do now is sit on the board of trustees for half a dozen companies. Until seven months ago, I was an alcoholic without even a high school diploma, and all I did was live off my inheritance. You changed that, so I should thank you. This,” he gestured at the room, “is the least I could do for you.”
Quinn let himself drop to his back. He’d never realized how far apart his world was from Haden’s. What had possessed him to fall in love with this guy?
“My mother died when I was eight,” Quinn heard himself say. “When I was twelve my father abandoned me. I haven’t seen him since.”
Haden took Quinn’s hand. “You’ve been on your own since you were twelve?”
“Sort of. My father left me with a group of people who lived in a squat. That was the closest thing to a house I ever had.”
“Here in the city?”
Quinn nodded. “Pretty close to the shelter, actually. One of the men in that group was an accountant in a former life, and he taught me to read and write and pretty much everything I need to know for running the shelter. I got a GED when I was eighteen, and after we got evicted from the squat, we would sleep at the shelter from time to time. I�
��d make myself useful there, and one day they suggested I help run the place. They must have thought I did a good job, so when the manager retired, they offered the position to me.”
“Regular success story.”
“Don’t mock me,” Quinn said quietly.
“I’m not mocking you. You’ve done something not a lot of people can copy.”
Quinn shrugged. “I see it every day. My security guys, Karl, some of the women. There are always a few that make it, Haden.”
“Karl sees your example as something worth following, I think.”
Quinn turned back to face Haden. “You think so?”
Haden nodded.
“I found out something tonight, though. I think he can’t read.”
“Oh?”
“I gave him the resident list, to check off that everyone made it out? And when I returned from checking the back rooms, he was helping everyone with their stuff and asking them their names, but his daughter was checking off the list.”
“Well, it’s possible, I suppose.”
“Until Danny taught me how to read, I had a hundred and one ways of hiding the fact that I couldn’t.”
“No wonder he’s so adamant his kids go to school,” Haden agreed. He pulled on Quinn’s hand to make him come closer.
“Are you sure?” Quinn asked.
“Just sleeping. Maybe a little cuddle. Can’t promise anything else,” Haden said softly.
Quinn crawled closer, snuggling into Haden’s embrace. It had been a long time since he’d slept in anyone’s arms.
“It’s late,” Haden said, kissing Quinn’s dark, curly hair. “We should get some sleep.”
* * *
Quinn woke up alone, the room still dark. He got up and found Haden sitting in the lounge, drinking a cup of coffee and reading his newspaper. He couldn’t look at Haden, so he pretended to rush to the bathroom.
Once inside, he had time to think. Wouldn’t it be easier to just cut his losses? Their talk the night before made it all too clear they really didn’t know each other. They were miles apart. The Prince and the Pauper. Haden had a fortune in the bank, while he barely had a checking account. Quinn didn’t even make enough money to rent a small, one room apartment and Haden lived in a turn-of-the-century house with live-in staff. They’d invariably stumble over the money issue somewhere along the way. But wasn’t he getting ahead of himself? A quick orgasm in a communal shower barely constituted a relationship, and Haden had made it all too clear that he didn’t want to have sex with him. Maybe Haden simply wanted to be friends? Maybe he should just play it by ear and enjoy the unusual luxury for a little while. Not like it was anything he would let himself get used to.
After a quick pee, Quinn walked back out.
“I’ll call Wilson and ask him to make us breakfast,” Haden said softly, looking up from his newspaper.
Quinn nodded.
“Your clothes are washed and should be ready in about,” Haden checked his watch, “half an hour.”
“Sounds good,” Quinn replied. “Thank you.”
* * *
Quinn didn’t get the chance to get used to the luxury of Haden’s house. The day after the fire, the fire chief declared the building sound and after a good scrub down, Quinn’s room was habitable again. The rest of the shelter took some more work, but Haden, Camille, and some of the regulars helped out. After three nights of sleeping at Haden’s warehouse, the shelter was almost back to full capacity, with the exception of the small back room where an illicit cigarette had caused a mattress to catch fire.
As promised, Haden brought Christmas decorations and before long the shelter felt like home again. Haden and Quinn were back to being just friends, sleeping in different beds and separate buildings in entirely different parts of town.
Quinn’s dreams were still filled with Haden, though, and he kept waking up remembering how he'd slept in Haden’s arms that night after the fire.
* * *
The morning of Christmas Eve, a truck stopped in front of the shelter. All the residents had left already and Quinn was about to leave as well, since he’d arranged with Camille to go pick up some of the food for the big Christmas party that evening.
When they walked outside, Haden was standing in front of the truck.
“I think I need a hand here,” Haden said smugly.
“We were just about to….”
“I think we should help him, Quinn,” Camille interrupted.
The back of the truck opened and three men in uniform jumped out.
“We just need a place to hide all this until we can put it under the tree after everyone’s asleep tonight,” Haden continued.
Quinn could tell Haden had a hard time hiding his amusement. “What do you have in there?”
“Christmas presents,” Haden answered, clearly pleased with himself.
Quinn shook his head and turned on his heels, leaving Haden, Camille and the three lackeys outside on the curb.
After a little hesitation, Haden followed him inside. “What’s wrong?”
Quinn was still shaking his head. “It’s so easy for you, right? Throw some money at it. Fork out a small fortune and give them something for Christmas. Does that make you feel good? Playing Santa Claus?” Quinn walked away from Haden toward the back room that still stood empty.
The three men walked past them, arms full of identical looking, brightly wrapped packages. They put them down in the far corner and walked out again as if they didn’t notice the arguing men. A moment later Camille did pretty much the same.
Haden waited to answer until Camille had left. “Yes, it makes me feel good. This shelter and its inhabitants saved my life. I was drinking myself to death and not having a lot of fun doing it, but that week here this summer changed my perspective on life.”
“News flash. Life isn’t a lot of fun, generally,” Quinn spat at Haden. “It’s damn hard if you don’t have any money. And no fancy Christmas gift is ever going to change that. Tomorrow after breakfast, they’re going to have to go back out there and face the real world, which is cruel and cold and wet. And doesn’t have servants making breakfast.”
Haden grabbed Quinn to make him look at him again. He also picked up one of the presents, shaking it in front of Quinn’s face. “I got everyone blankets. Warm, lightweight, camping blankets in a weatherproof bag. The kids get backpacks with books and pens and writing paper. Things they can use for school. There’s a few vouchers in there to pick up more free stuff for school as well. I didn’t just buy this stuff foolishly, Quinn, and I don’t expect a thank you. Yes, some of this stuff comes from the companies I own, and there’s more surplus material where that came from, but I talked to the people who stay here at night, and this is the stuff they said they needed most. They’re still just people like you and me, Quinn. They just need some basics in life. And a little kindness, just one day in the year.”
Quinn didn’t know what to say. He stood there, swaying on his feet, grateful for the fact that Haden’s hand still had a firm grip on his elbow; otherwise, he was sure he wouldn’t be able to stay upright. He loved the passion in Haden’s eyes, in his voice and felt he was being so stupid, he couldn’t even put it into words. He was the ass, not Haden. He was the one who’d let his personal feelings of frustration and jealousy make him lash out at the one man who was the cause of those feelings; a man who didn’t deserve this.
“Now let’s get everything ready for tonight. Let’s give these people a dinner to remember and a good night’s sleep and then they can wake up to a present for everyone. That’s Christmas, Quinn. A little kindness for everyone.” With that, Haden pulled Quinn into his arms and Quinn let him. They stood like that for a while, not even letting go when Camille dared to come inside with another box, slowly followed by the three men with more of the wrapped blankets. Eventually the small room became so full they had to move to allow for the last presents to be stowed away.
“I’ll go get the food, Quinny,” Camille said, softly putting
her hand on Quinn’s shoulder. “You stay here with Haden and hold the fort.”
“Take my truck, Camille,” Haden offered without letting go of Quinn. “Just tell the driver where to go, and my men will help you load it. The truck and the men are ours for the day.”
“Oooh,” Camille quipped teasingly. “You shouldn’t have told me that.” She winked as she left.
Quinn let his head rest against Haden’s. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I feel like such a fool.”
“Why?” Haden asked, moving his head back so he could look Quinn in the eye. “You do this work with such passion, Quinn. I should have checked it with you first, but I wanted to surprise you as well. I’m the one who should apologize.”
Quinn shook his head. He was still feeling dizzy and couldn’t fathom why. When Haden let go of him, he shivered violently and almost fell.
“Wow! Are you okay?” Haden asked, voice full of concern. “Come on.” Haden put his arm around Quinn’s shoulder again and led him to his room.
“I’m fine,” Quinn protested weakly.
“It’s going to be a long day and we’ll need to help Camille with the food this afternoon,” Haden said softly but firmly.
Quinn wasn’t used to giving up control, but he let Haden tuck him into bed, under the covers no less. He was still fully clothed, and he felt a bit ridiculous, but he had to admit that Haden was good at fussing over him.
Haden crouched down next to the bed and caressed Quinn’s cheek. “You went all white, Quinn. You don’t have a fever. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’ll be okay if you crawl in here,” Quinn heard himself say. He hated himself when he was this needy and had never voiced it to any lover before, but with Haden, it seemed to be all right. “Keep me warm?” he added with a hesitant smile.
Haden smiled back and snuggled under the covers with Quinn. It was a little strange to lie in bed, in the middle of the morning, both of them fully clothed.
“Let me take care of you, Quinn,” Haden asked softly, pulling Quinn closer into his embrace. “I know you’re the one always taking care of everyone, but you need someone to take care of you as well and I think I can do that.”