Charity Starts at Home (3 page)

Quinn let his hands ghost over the intricate designs on Haden’s biceps while they caught their breath. When Quinn gazed up, Haden was looking lost, so Quinn took the lead. “If we’re quick, the water will still be hot.”

Haden didn’t move so Quinn once more rounded the partition and got under the shower to rinse off the semen of their combined release. To his grave disappointment, Haden didn’t join him and when he exited the shower, Haden crossed his path without making eye contact. Quinn dried off and got dressed on his own while Haden remained in the shower. He mentally kicked himself for being so forward, but hoped that, in time, Haden would see it for what it was: an admission that Quinn was attracted to Haden as well.

*  *  *

About
ten minutes later, Haden, his hair still wet, joined Quinn as he was setting up the plates and cutlery for dinner. He didn’t say anything, but Quinn couldn’t leave it this way.

“I’m sorry if I came on too strong,” Quinn said as he moved behind Haden to pick up the paper napkins.

Haden shrugged. “’s okay.”

“It’s not okay if you didn’t want what was happening, Haden.”

Again, Haden shrugged. “I was okay with it.”

Quinn sighed loudly. It wasn’t like he expected a declaration of love from Haden, but Quinn hated not knowing where he stood. Had he read too much into Haden’s words at the AA meeting? Had Haden been talking about someone else he’d met and Quinn simply assumed—wrongly—that he’d meant him?

“Haden?” Quinn pleaded. He needed Haden to at least assure him he hadn’t ruined the precarious friendship they had cultivated so far.

“What?” Haden answered innocently, the expression on his face soft.

“Never mind,” Quinn replied gruffly, shoving the napkins into the oversized napkin holder before hurrying into the kitchen. On the way over there he mentally kicked himself for expecting too much, but he knew he couldn’t invest in a hopeless relationship. He was too old to lose himself in something that didn’t have a future, so he knew he had to let it lay, for his own sanity more than anything else.

They worked together in silence the rest of the evening, exchanging only the most necessary conversation. Quinn hated the tension in the air, but there was nothing he could do as long as Haden refused to have a civil conversation. At night in his bed, Quinn couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened. Had he really pushed Haden to do something he didn’t want? It was Haden who had walked into the showers naked, knowing Quinn was in there. Had he really misread the signs?

Quinn tried to quiet down his brain, but even his dreams were filled with the dragons he’d seen on Haden’s body.

*  *  *

To Quinn’s
surprise, Haden was back the following evening. Part of him didn’t want Haden there. Without his help, he had a lot more work to do, but at least it was tension free. Now the almost silent presence of the other man made Quinn uneasy.

After their residents were settled in for the night, Quinn caught Haden at the back of the shelter, in the designated smoking area. It was less cold tonight, although you could still see your breath. There were a few other men smoking a short distance away so they didn’t have a lot of privacy, but Quinn needed to talk to Haden.

“I didn’t know you smoked,” Quinn said hesitantly, trying not to sound too negative.

Haden looked at his half-smoked cigarette and flicked the ashes into the large ashtray. “Bad habit. One of many.”

“Oh?” Quinn asked playfully, hoping to lift the tension a bit.

“You don’t want to know,” Haden answered, a wry smile on his face.

“We all have bad habits,” Quinn agreed, gesturing for Haden’s cigarette. Haden handed it to him and he took a drag before handing it back with an understanding smile. They stood in silence for a while, until Haden had finished his cigarette and pushed his hands into the pockets of his pants. Quinn had hoped sharing the cigarette would have broken the ice, but Haden clearly needed more to persuade him to open up. For a moment, Quinn didn’t know where to begin, but then he remembered there was one more thing he was hiding from Haden. “I heard your confession at the meeting.”

“Good,” Haden answered evenly.

“Good?” Quinn asked. Haden’s answer was the last thing he’d expected.

“I was wondering why you did what you did yesterday and I was starting to believe you took liberties with everyone who came in for a shower. The fact you heard me say what I said, means you’re a bit more discriminating.”

“Was it me you were talking about?” Quinn asked a little apprehensively.

“Yes,” Haden answered. He was still staring out at the graffiti on the back wall, which was the only vista available to the smokers, but his voice sounded calm and in control, as if he wasn’t in the least ashamed of his confession.

“So why did you refuse to talk to me about it?” As soon as the words left his mouth, Quinn realized he had raised his voice and the other two men in the smoker’s area had turned to look at them. It didn’t seem to faze Haden.

“What happened happened, Quinn. It felt good and I didn’t mind what you did, but I’m not ready for more. I can’t deal with more right now.”

Quinn nodded. He could accept that for now. Haden had all but admitted he had feelings for him, so maybe if he was patient, Haden would open up to him again. He smiled when he realized Haden was still standing next to him, hands in pockets, his warm sweater hiding the elaborate body-art underneath the sleeves.

“You have gorgeous tattoos,” Quinn said quietly.

“Another bad habit,” Haden admitted.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Quinn said. “I have a few small ones, but I don’t have the money to have anything big done. I wouldn’t mind taking a closer look at yours.”

Haden looked at him sideways.

“You know, one day, when you’re ready to let me.”

Haden smiled, which made Quinn’s heart skip a beat.

“One day,” Haden agreed.

*  *  *

Haden
came to the shelter every night to help out and Quinn slowly got used to treating him as a friend rather than someone he had the hots for. Nights were another thing altogether. Haden went home as soon as the work was done, leaving Quinn to go to his room all by himself to dream of Haden. Quinn kept telling himself to stop hoping for more, but as soon as the Sandman took him, his subconscious had other ideas.

During one such hot and bothersome dream, Quinn was rudely awakened by loud banging on his door, a desperate man’s voice calling his name. He got up out of bed, acutely aware of the fact his erection was tenting his pajama bottoms. As soon as he heard the frantic voice cry “Fire!” Quinn was wide awake. He grabbed his clothes and put them on over his night clothes, then grabbed his cell phone. As soon as he opened the door, he could smell that it wasn’t a false alarm. He dialed 911, asked the man who’d woken him to get Karl up, and knocked on the door of the security guys’ bedroom, all at once. After giving the emergency dispatcher the address, Quinn walked toward the front door to open the entrance gate so they could start evacuating. Karl arrived with several kids in tow, including his own.

“Don’t think anyone’s hurt, but we’ll need to take roll call outside,” Karl told Quinn after dropping the kids off in the entrance hall.

“I’ll get tonight’s list,” Quinn agreed. “Can you get the people together here? Make sure they don’t leave before we can check them?”

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.”