TordTom OneShots

Getting Dirty

You'd think after working as a house cleaner, Tom would have seen it all. The thought of going into a random person's home and possibly finding something that could permanently burn itself into your brain, not always so pleasant sounding.

Today's task at hand is a very interesting one. The house belongs to a millionaire who directs and writes porn scripts, even models on the side. Tom is always prepared for the worst, it didn't matter what kind of home it was, it's better to be safe than sorry.

Tom pulled at the handle, the door opening with ease. Through the front door, a beautiful waterfall lit up with red lights flooded his vision. It is a breathtaking sight for sure but Tom only glanced at it for a second before continuing through the house.

A giant doorway led to an amazingly organized and clean kitchen. It seemed as though it had never been touched. As Tom continued his search around the house, everything seems to be spotless. He questions the reason behind him being hired for the day's job. That was until he finds himself in a mess of a bedroom, which he guesses to be the master. A bathroom connects to the room off to the right, the light left on with a grossly smudged mirror. The floors of both the bedroom and the bathroom are littered with clothes, unable to tell if clean or dirty, and towels. Some drawers from a dresser were pulled open, socks and pants hanging lazily off the edge.

Popping his earbuds in, Tom walks out to his car to grab cleaning supplies. A blue bucket, mop, basket of different kinds of spray bottles, dusters, sponges, and hand towels. He plopped down everything on the floor of the master bathroom, deciding his first task. The bathroom seems like an easy first job.

Music gets to his mind, his body, subconsciously swaying and humming to the song. Tom's sprays and swipes of cleaning the mirror went along with the beat, getting into it a bit more. The swaying, humming, and pattern of working turned into singing, dancing, and energetic movements.

The front door opened, singing and the movement of someone was noticeable from down stairs. A man stood in the doorway, his face blank yet tired. Closing the door behind him, he follows the sweet sound of melody up the stairs. Keeping quiet and taking gentle, cautious steps, it lead him to his own bedroom. The door open just slightly, he could see a man dressed in black jeans, a blue long sleeve shirt, and a white apron like clothing over everything else. As he stood there silently, the man turned with a bucket of supplies, putting them gently on the ground before picking up scattered clothes off the floor. His voice was much more clear now that he was only a few inches away from him, but what had his focus the most was the man's eyes, or lack of.

Tom had a feeling that for a while now that he isn't as alone as he thinks. A nagging feeling in the back of his mind has become more noticeable, unable to get rid of. His singing became quieter, the dancing turned into slight movements. His back is facing the door and the sudden urge of turning around got the best of him.

A quick look of the taller man immediately caused Tom to stumble backwards and let out a small gasp. His right foot got caught in the supply bucket and he toppled over with a loud thud.

"Holy shit, are you okay? I didn't mean to startle you-" The man, Tom assumes is the owner of the house, crouched down to Tom's level. An overwhelming flood of embarrassment rushes through Tom as he tries not to scream.

"Here, let me help you!" He stood over Tom, offering a hand for him to take. Of course he took it, and he helped Tom off the floor. "I'm really sorry, I shouldn't have been spying on you like that."

"No worries, I've been in worse situations." Tom answers, waving his hand. Although, this may have been the worse experience for Tom yet, he just won't admit it and make the man feel bad. Tom's been secretive and good at hiding his interest in singing, he's never once planned on sharing it with others.

"Oh, uhm, here you can borrow some of my clothes, you're soaked!" Tom hadn't noticed until now that he was right, he is soaked. A mixture of window cleaner, bleach, and soapy mop water covered him.

"I'm Tord by the way, Tord Audet." The man said gently, a hint of embarrassment in his eyes. Tom sighed and gave a small smile, noticing the regret and shyness from his surprise appearance, assuring Tord that it was alright.

"Tom, Tom Shaw. It's nice to meet you Tord." A nod is shared between the two and Tord hands Tom an all black t-shirt and pair of clean sweatpants.

"Oh- I don't need this, really it's okay-" Tom was cut short by Tord,

"Please, I insist, it's the least I could do." The plea isn't only in his words but in his eyes, Tom almost felt bad.

A small sigh left Tom's lips and he took the clothes into the bathroom and changed. The clothes were a bit too big but nothing Tom couldn't handle. His dirty clothes were picked up off the floor and he carried them to his bucket, throwing them in. "It's never a surprise when taking up a job like this, you'll always be getting a little dirty!"