Housekeeping

Nicky Hauser's life fell apart on an ordinary Tuesday.

Monday is still a good day.The restaurant was closed, so he and Tom took the Intercity Express to San Francisco to make up a birthday for himself, who had just turned 29 a few days ago.They went to see the Paul Klee show at the MoMA, had dinner at a pretty nice restaurant - a dinner where Tom didn't have to cook and Nicky didn't have to serve the plate - and danced to the two of them after that All sweating profusely and exhausted.By the time they got home to Livermore, it was late.But they started messing around in the nightclub, making out in the empty car on the way home, tearing each other's clothes to shreds as soon as they walked in.Tom pushed Nicky against the back of the sofa and fucked so hard that the weight of the sofa slid inches off the carpet.When they were done they fell on the bed together, Tom a little shorter than Nicky, and Nicky put his arm around him from behind, and they clung together.What a day.It was like going back in time, the days when they first started dating, before Tom opened Phoenix Court.

But the next day is Tuesday.As usual, Tom woke up first.He slapped Nicky on the ass, "It's time to get up and get ready for work."

Nicky hummed in protest.He's not a morning type and refuses to open his eyes.

Tom smacked him again. "You look like a trauma victim now."

"Thanks." Nicky thought so too.His ass hurts from last night's tossing, and his head hurts like someone has been throwing stones at him.

"Okay. I'll call Simon and ask him if he can cover your midday shift. You can take your beauty sleep and come back at night."

Nicky looked up at him sleepily, "Really?"

"Of course. Just think I'm giving you another birthday present, baby." Tom patted him again—lightly this time—and headed for the bathroom.

There are many advantages to sleeping with the boss, Nikki thought.But later in the day he would know what the downside was.But at this moment he didn't know anything, just lay lazily, listening to the sound of water in the bathroom contentedly.He imagined the water flowing over Tom's lean body, slowly fucking his cock.He considered getting up and washing with Tom, and maybe licking some of the water off him, but the mattress was so comfortable, and the pillows and blankets were well padded, that he didn't move in the end.

When Tom returned to the bedroom, his short hair was still wet.Nicky winked: "Are you sure you don't want to sleep with me?" He said and patted the empty seat beside him.

And Tom was just busy rummaging through the underwear in the closet, without looking back: "No. I have to make sure that the ingredients delivered this morning are all right, and I have to prepare for the lunch business. Last week, that bastard sent me a bunch Rubbish salmon, Polly just signed for it."

Nicky still remembers that incident vividly.Tom throws a big tantrum, Polly screams and threatens to quit, while the rest of the crew just watch the show.So, as usual, it was up to Nikki to come out and be the peacemaker.Eventually both Polly and Tom apologized, and the others returned to their respective posts.Later, between mid-day and evening business, Nicky rewarded him for coming to his senses by dragging Tom into the office and giving him a slobber.

Now Nicky yawns and says, "Okay." He watches Tom get dressed and is a little disappointed that he didn't kiss goodbye, just a little.Tom's mind must have gone to the dining room, as he always did.

Shortly after the door closed, Nicky fell asleep again.He dreamed of a school of stray fish swimming into his shower, where they attempted to spawn.

"Evil—" he yelled and woke up.Slimy salmon spawn in his shower.So after he finished stretching and going to the toilet, he casually put on a pair of old shorts, and immediately took a sponge and homemade stain remover to clean up the imaginary slime in the bathroom.After wiping the bathroom, he wiped the glass door again, before nodding in satisfaction.This is much better.

With all this done, there were still a few hours before Tom asked him to report to the Phoenix Pavilion.Nicky passed the time the same old way: cleaning.Grinning, he pushed the sofa back into place and picked up the remains of the clothes he and Tom had worn the night before.He felt that Tom's shirt might be salvaged if he could find the same buttons.But his own was completely torn apart, completely beyond his ability.The rest of the clothes are thrown into the laundry basket.He cleaned the living room, carefully avoiding the glass ornaments that Tom had collected—although he was a bit destructive, after all, these cheap trinkets were so ugly.

Then he took out the vacuum cleaner again.For two years he had been trying to persuade Tom to remove the carpet and replace it with solid wood flooring.Rugs are a great way to trap dirt, but a dark bamboo floor looks so much more elegant and fun.But this is Tom's house, and he has to rely on him even if it needs to be redecorated, so Nicky's proposal was rejected by one vote.

In the end, Nicky made himself a sandwich, washed his used dishes, and wiped down the granite countertops.Actually Tom wouldn't care if he didn't clean it--he probably wouldn't even notice.When Nicky first moved in, the whole house was like a toxic waste dump.Tom is obsessed with the cleanliness of his restaurant, but he has no interest in keeping his own home tidy.Nicky had no problem with that though, he liked cleaning rooms anyway.Cleaning relaxes him and gives him a sense of accomplishment.

Nikki quickly hung the dishcloth on the special hook and glanced at the time.The noon rush hour has ended, and the restaurant has entered a rest period.Employees would clock out, and Tom would be back in his office, buried between bills and other paperwork.He certainly didn't expect Nicky or anyone else from the late shift to show up for the next two hours.

Nicky curled his mouth mischievously, and decided to surprise Tom.He took a quick shower—and then wiped the glass door all over again, since limescale was hard to get off, the little bitch.After the shower, he puts on his second sexiest pair of panties, the sexiest of which had been shown yesterday.He put on the black trousers again.White shirt and black trousers are standard for waiters, but Nicky can always find a tight fit to show off his strong thighs and firm buttocks, and Tom has never raised any objections.A crisp button-down shirt set off his honey-toned skin well.He also carefully gelled his hair.Yes, he's a bit vain, but he's happy to please himself, which is better for tips anyway.By the way, grooming himself is one of the few things he does really well.

Needless to say, Tom drove away his beloved Mercedes-Benz Ford, leaving Nicky with a passable and hideously ugly old car, the Ford Fiesta.The Mercedes-Benz Ford was treated extravagantly. It was parked in the garage by Tom, while the Fiesta was only parked on the side of the road. The car was covered with pollen, cat paw prints, and bird droppings.Fortunately, at least Nicky managed to catch the fire on the fourth try.

The sky is a soft dove gray, hinting that autumn is finally here.It won't be long before restaurant season hits hard, with people flocking to book holiday gatherings or bring distant relatives to dinner.By November and December, Tom was getting extra tired, and it was hard for the two of them to find time together.Needless to say, a vacation in a nice place warm and smelling of mai tai is out of the question.

Phoenix Pavilion is located in a two-story shopping mall, the top floor is a furniture mall, and the first floor is full of restaurants.Every restaurant is doing Asian food, different cuisines - Chinese, Thai, Malaysian, Afghani, Japanese, Korean.But Tom's restaurant serves fusion cuisine, a recipe he's passed down to him from his Vietnamese grandmother and French dad, adding a touch of Californian flair.The food was well received and the restaurant was often full, but Tom was always reminding Nicky that even that didn't mean he was rich.The catering industry is not easy to do.

Nicky parked the Fiesta in the parking lot, next to the dumpster.He glanced at the bank next to him, and thought about whether he wanted to walk over to withdraw some money, but in the end he felt that it was not urgent.The staff passage of Phoenix Gate was at the back door of the mall, and when he went around, the door was being held open by a brick.I don't know who was so careless, but it was convenient for Nicky himself, and now he can sneak in without knocking.He could sneak up next to Tom, who must be whining in the paperwork.

Smiling to himself, Nicky slipped through the door.Along the way, he stumbled into several boxes that should have been emptied, squashed and thrown out long ago.Presumably Simon didn't cover his lunch shift.It didn't matter, Nicky could do it later, when he and Tom were done.Somebody left the radio on, blaring those damn old 80s tunes that Tom loves to hear, Tiffany, sucks.

Nicky half unbuttoned his shirt and rubbed his palms at the base of his thighs, and when Tom looked up from the papers, he was sure to see the bulge in his crotch.It was a great surprise.Nicky never sneaked up on him during work hours.He smiled and opened the door of Tom's small office.

Simon was pinned to the table, and Tom's cock was all up in his meaty ass.

All three stopped.Nicky's hand was still on the doorknob, and he could see every detail: the sheen of sweat on Tom's face, even the speck of light reflected from the sweat in his short dark hair.Simon's black trousers and those obnoxious red thongs hanging from his ankles.A spilled bottle of lube poured over a pile of papers was dripping down the drain.Next to it was an empty condom bag.

Nicky closed the door and said nothing.

He backed into the kitchen and back into the parking lot through the back door.He felt very strange, as if the whole person was dissociated from the body.His legs were only moving mechanically, as if a puppeteer hiding aside was pulling the strings on his body for him.A group of Huangfeng buzzed in his mind, completely blocking all thoughts.

He threw himself into the carnival, sat down, closed the door, and… just sat there.

He wondered how long he had been there—a few minutes?How many hours? ——It wasn't until a car stopped beside him that he suddenly woke up from his numbness.It was Becca, one of the night attendants, her hair tied back in a tight blond ponytail.She waved at him.

Nicky got out of the car, as if still sleepwalking.

"Driving time ①?"

Note ①: A radio program of the National Public Radio (NPR) in the United States is said to be so interesting that many people do not get off the car when they arrive at their destination in order to finish listening to the program.

"what?"

"You look like you're listening to something on the radio and you're fascinated."

"Oh. Uh, I was just thinking about something."

"I always tell people not to do that." Becca winked at him.She was truly one of the smartest people Nicky had ever met, and also one of the most purposeful.She has a life plan, a very serious one.She is currently studying for a master's degree, and the professional name Nicky can't understand at all. The ultimate goal is to get a doctorate and then take charge of the world.

Most of the employees have arrived, and the kitchen is getting busy.Tom was berating an apprentice cook when he caught sight of him coming back from afar with a surprised expression on his face.But Nicky ignored him, followed Becca to the cabinet, and took out a clean black apron.They each fastened their apron belts, and Nicky went straight to the front hall, but Becca clicked her tongue behind her and grabbed his arm, "Why don't you tidy up today, you have to leave, boy." She said.

Nicky blinked at her blankly, so Becca shook her head affectionately, and helped him button up his shirt: "Are you okay, Nicky? You seem a little out of shape today."

"I... I'm fine."

"Did you play too much last night?"

Nicky tried to force a smile, "Yeah."

"I have ibuprofen in my bag if you need it."

"Thanks, Abe. I'm all right."

The first customer to open in the evening stepped into the restaurant almost as soon as the door opened.Nicky tried to be as friendly as ever, but every word came stiffly.He was not a good waiter when he first started in this business, he could not please customers, and his hands and feet were not quick enough.As much as he loves to crack a few wisecracks with his clients, he's never been as professional as Becca, Scott, or Wayne.Even that rubbish Simon did a better job than him - luckily that guy wasn't on duty tonight, though.Nikki and Tom had been a Pepsi delivery boy when they met, and he'd become a waiter just by following the crowd.

By seven o'clock, the whole restaurant was full.Nicky bumps into Scott in the kitchen, causing him to knock over a plate of tilapia with ginger and cilantro. "Watch it, idiot!" Scott spat at him.

After that, Nikki mixed up side dishes for a table of four, forgot to serve rice to a customer who was eating by himself, and nearly got a complaint from a couple with two young children about drink refills. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he kept saying.He was stared at by guests and other staff, and tips were pitifully small.

Eventually, a table of white-haired ladies overwhelmed him.Dressed in macaron-colored trousers and clanging bracelets, the five of them looked like they had just returned from a gardening club meeting.They spent their entire lives looking at menus and asked him a trillion questions, and he answered them as patiently as possible.They need to know every ingredient in every dish, don't want to eat anything too spicy, and ask for every sauce to be served.One of the women asked twice to have her food sent back to the kitchen to be processed.As a result, they basically didn't eat anything, and asked to pack everything.Then they asked for a separate bill, emphasizing that the cost of the bottle of red wine should only be shared equally by the three of them.

"Excuse me," said the petite woman in the orange-rimmed glasses, her voice shrill and harsh.She waved her bill, "You made a mistake. I didn't drink, but you charged it to me. It should be her." She pointed to the fat woman beside her.

"Sorry. Just wait until I get the food to the other—"

"I'm tired of waiting. Change it now."

"I only need--"

"Tonight's service sucks." She and her four companions glared at him. "I need to talk to the manager, right now."

"I'm so sorry, but we're really just too busy. Please let me—"

"immediately!"

Her voice was so high-pitched that Nicky jerked back - straight into Arturo the handyman.Plates and cups slammed all over the floor, and Arturo screamed obscenities in Spanish.Nicky almost fell into the food and soup. He tried to grab the back of a chair for balance, but accidentally grabbed the shoulder of a burly man. "Hey!" the man growled.

Nicky escapes.He rampages across the dinner table, leaving a roomful of jaw-dropping people behind.Becca called him from the side of the kitchen, but he ignored him, pushed open the door and rushed into the cold night.He almost ran over two couples on the sidewalk and narrowly missed an SUV in a parking lot.The owner of the car honked the horn fiercely, and the car horn blared.

The Fiesta was no longer a shelter, it was more like a cage, but Nicky was still sitting in the dark car waiting for his breath to calm down, he couldn't care less.He didn't immediately start the engine until he was sure he could drive home safely.

Deep down, Nicky was hoping that Tom would come back from closing the restaurant early—or just leave the restaurant a day early and entrust the restaurant to someone else—and come back and talk to him.But Tom didn't.Nicky sat alone on the sofa until late at night.He was still wearing the white and black overalls and black apron, his stomach was empty, and he was uncomfortably hungry.The room was pitch black, with shadows falling over bookshelves filled with cookbooks and glass decorations.The chill from autumn spread in the room, and it occurred to him that it might be time to turn on the stove.

Finally, the garage door opened and closed.Nicky heard the sound of Tom throwing the keys on the kitchen counter and heard the water dispenser on the refrigerator whirring for a moment.Nicky knew him all too well, leaning against the cupboard to drink.He must have dark circles under his eyes now, and his shoulders will slump with fatigue.His skin smelled of sweat, oily smoke, and various spices.

Usually Nicky comes back with Tom.Sometimes Nicky would just kneel in the kitchen and give his lover a blowout.Most of the time, they went back to the living room together, kicked off their shoes, and fell onto the sofa together with their legs wrapped around them.They would rub each other's feet until they both moaned in pleasure.

And tonight, Nicky is just sitting here.The overhead light came on, and he squinted and looked aside.Tom walked quietly into the room and fell down next to him.For about 10 minutes, none of them spoke.

Finally, Tom sighed loudly. "I'm sorry you saw us like that," he said softly.

Nicky flinched at the "we," but said nothing.

"It's just... I've been a little bit stressed lately and Simon... that doesn't mean anything, Nicky. I don't have a particular relationship with him, it's not the same relationship we have."

Nicky had been feeling disconnected all night, but at this moment, reality jolted him awake.His breathing came harder, and he realized the obvious: this wasn't the first time Tom had eaten the edge grass.

"Our relationship," Nikki repeated.

"Oh please. I'm sorry, okay? I'm just messing around."

Nicky had always been clear that to Tom, his own status had never been equal to the Phoenix Court, but he accepted it.On some level, he probably already knew that his lover had cheated on him—and not just with Simon.There have been sneaky glances at Nicky in the restaurant, gossip.Even before Tom opened his own restaurant, when he was working as a chef at a restaurant in Barclays, he had several unexpected late arrivals with the smell of unfamiliar cologne.But Nicky didn't want to become paranoid.Tom loved him, he said so.

Nicky shook his head.His chest was empty, like a fish Tom had gutted.The bright light in the room hurt his eyes. "I've never even kissed another man, Tom. Not since I met you."

"But it's no fucking big deal, Nicky!"

"For me there is."

Nikki stood up.He'd sat so still that his legs were cramping, but he didn't care about the discomfort.He walked into the empty guest bedroom with stiff legs, opened the wardrobe, and took out the large suitcase.He'd only used it once, when they went to Hawaii before Tom opened Phoenix Court.He dragged the suitcase back into the master bedroom and started packing his clothes until the suitcase was almost full.Finally he tossed in a packet of toiletries, closed the case, and zipped it up.Reluctantly, he had to lug his suitcase through the living room to get out.

Tom still slumped on the couch: "Nicky..."

"I'll come back for what I have left." Nicky didn't have much left.Most of the things in this house belong to Tom.

"Where are you going, Nicky? This is your home."

"This is your home. My name is not on the mortgage."

"But you live here."

"I can't stop."

Tom didn't follow.Nicky walked out of the house alone into the night, his suitcase rattling along the sidewalk.

That's all there is to it.Nicky Hauser lost his job, his home, his boyfriend and his hopes on a bad Tuesday.