Turning the lock to Doug's apartment door, Tom had no idea what he would find. The TV softy buzzed in the corner, playing old black and white cartoons that cast shadows on the walls. There on the sofa, the little boy seamed to float, asleep on Doug stomach, rising and falling with the larger mans breath.
As Tom approached he could see that the little boy's hair was wet from his bath, and he was already in his pj's. Carefully placing himself to be careful of not waking either, he pulled Clavo off of Doug and cradled the little boy in his arms. Only a few steps to his bed and he was safely tucked in, and his door was placed a hair apart; a lesson learned when Tom had babysat a few nights before. Clavo liked the door open, just so he could be herd.
Turning back to the couch, he could see the cups and plates left on the coffee table, and decided to take care of those first. Snapping off the TV, he collected up the mess and turning he saw Doug wrap an arm around himself in his sleep. Tom placed the plates back down and pulling the blanket of the back of the couch he tucked it around Doug's sleeping form.
Washing dishes, replacing the boxes of crackers and chips, organizing the kitchen sink, alphabetizing the mail; he did all these things avoiding the one thing he had come to do. Sneaking a glance into Clavo's room, he saw the little boy resting peacefully, now twirled slightly in his blankets.
But Doug, Doug was still sleeping, his body squished length of the couch, his head tucked up by the armrest and his feet peaking off of the other end. The blanket now under his one arm and his hair falling slightly in his face, he looked much older than he was. Tom just stood there looking at him for the longest time, the longer he stood there the more nerve he lost. He looked around for a note pad to leave a note, both could find none. But Clavo could have gone to bed on his own, but Doug would have known he would have woken him up. But would he have put away the dishes by himself, no, but morning after Doug might have thought he'd done that in his sleepiness the night before. He hoped that Doug would be too distracted to notice. Tom just stood there looking at his friend.
Before he left, Tom walked forward, and before his cowardice got the best of him, he pressed his lips for a few, unmistakable seconds on the corner of Doug's mouth. Not hard enough to wake him, but enough to make Tom feel satisfied.
He locked the door as he left.