Hotel couches
Waking up on a Wednesday meant I needed to get ready for work. After I snoozed my alarm for five more blissful minutes I ate breakfast, sipped on my piping hot coffee and dressed appropriately for my work in the bakery. Working there was nice, but it wasn’t very stimulating. I’ve just never really liked baking. Never have. And nothing exciting ever happens. Not in this one, at least. But working there is fine. The pay is fair and the boss, Phil, is a good guy. Odd, but good. Not real talkative, except when it comes to something regarding the bakery. But still, he’s nice to his customers and staff.
The day passed by in a flurry of flour, hot ovens and fresh pastries. Nothing special.
Finally everything was cleaned up and I could go home, looking forward to getting off my feet for a while.
After taking a shower and effectively rubbing all of the flower out of my hair and dough from under my nails I finally plopped down onto my couch. Putting my feet up I let out a sigh and sagged into the cushions until my eye fell on the big stack of paper on the ground. Right. The contract.
The thought of my new job made my stomach flutter in excitement, but I know fuck all about reading contracts.
I grabbed the contract from the table and plopped down onto the couch again before diving into it. Five minutes was more than enough to make my head hurt and I decided I should give Steve a call. He seemed to be the kinda guy that read contracts more often. And understood them.
“Hey, Steve.”
“Hey, Buck. Is everything all right?”
I smirked. You could almost hear the worry lines forming in Steve’s face.
“Yeah, I just kinda wanted to ask if you could help with the contract, because honestly I don’t understand it. Kinda stupid. So, yeah.” I ended, really lamely. Wow.
“Sure. Want me to come over?” Steve agreed.
I quickly looked around. No way Steve would wanna be in here, in this stinky, old apartment.
“Ehm, how about I come over? Still at the same hotel?” I quickly asked.
Steve hummed in agreement.
“Okay, you got time?”
“Sure. I’ll be waiting. See you in a bit. Be safe out.” Steve said before hanging up.
Steve worried too much. But I saw it was already dark outside and grabbed a coat before pulling the door closed behind me. Maybe I did look a few extra times behind me.
Just to be safe.
~
Steve opened up the door with a soft smile and welcomed me into his hotel room, which I’d gotten to know these last couple of days.
“So, wanna sit down and read it with me?” I asked after we greeted each other. We sat down at either side of a well-lit table and I handed the contract over to Steve.
“To be honest, I read the first page, got a headache and quit. I’m not much of a genius and I have no idea what I’m even looking at.” I confessed before Steve responded. Better that Steve knew now that I was a basket case now than finding out later when I couldn’t make heads or tails from anything he was saying.
Steve looked at me and quirked an eyebrow, “Hey, first off, you are smart. How many languages do you know again? You need brains for that. Second, of course I’ll help.”
Over the course of the following few hours Steve explained about everything that I needed to know. Work hours, vacations, what to do when I was sick, and last but not least, the payment.
“Say what now?” I stared, my mouth open.
“I said-“ Steve repeated before I actually squealed.
“I heard, I just can’t believe it! 24 dollars an hour!” I really wanted to dance now. Man, I felt good! 24 dollars an hour was twice the amount I got at the bakery, and Hydra? Well, they paid better than the bakery, but that was to be expected, working as a prostitute.
But this! This was awesome!
If I’d just work four days a week, I’d be making more than I did now with six days a week! And I’d have free time. Not just free time off work but at home cleaning and stuff. No, I’d actually be free! Maybe go outside, lay in the grass in a park, walk around or go visit the Smithsonian? The possibilities are endless and my mind is spinning with them.
When I finally got my mind out of wonderland and back to the room I was in I looked at Steve with wide eyes, who was smiling at me. It kinda looked like he was staring. In any other situation this was the time where I’d have made a snide remark about how staring was impolite but quite frankly the only thing that came out of my mouth was another squeal followed by “Steve, I’m gonna be okay!”
Steve smiled that adorable smile of his and sighed, “Yeah, Buck. Of course you are.”
After my inner party had died out (even though I was still buzzing and really fucking happy) Steve and I decided we’d have a drink and watch some TV.
Steve yawned and only then did it dawn on me that I had been here for hours and it was probably way past midnight. I checked my phone and saw it was already two in the morning. I felt awkward suddenly, sitting on the couch in Steve’s appartement, keeping him up till ungodly hours. He seemed tired as hell.
I stood up, “Sorry, Steve. I forgot about the time. You should be getting some sleep and honestly, so should I, I’ve got work tomorrow morning.”
Steve got up too and put his hand on my shoulder, “Hey, it’s fine. And I’d rather have you stay here. That way I know you’re safe, at least.”
This guy kept surprising me with how nice he was, damn. How do you say no to a guy this sweet and handsome, hmm?
“I don’t have any clothes with me. Or a toothbrush. I should really be getting home.” I rubbed my neck, contemplating my options. I would actually like to stay here, but it wasn’t really practical.
“Well, you looked just fine in my clothes last time.” Steve hummed before his words seemed to dawn on him and he sputtered, “I mean- you know what I mean! And the hotel leaves spare toothbrushes. See? Problems fixed.”
~
Withing half an hour I was staring at the same spot on the ceiling of the same nice hotel room, listening to the sounds of Steve getting ready for bed. There I was, lying in clothes that weren’t my own, on a hotel couch I was getting weirdly familiar with, in an apartment with a stranger I met not five days ago.
If you’d have told me six days ago that I’d actually meet a nice guy who saves me from- something bad, gives me money like it’s nothing, gets me a real fucking job that pays all my bills- I’d have told you to piss off and find a psychiatrist because that would be fucking crazy.
And yet here I was.