“That’d be me,” I replied, holding up my tool bag. “Name’s Waylon.”
“Brad,” he said with a nod. “Thanks for coming on such short notice. We’ve got an issue with one of the private pools downstairs that I can’t seem to fix on my own. I need a second pair of hands.”
He gestured for me to follow him through the door he’d just come through. As we walked, I couldn’t help but notice how well his jeans fit his ass. Clearly the bathhouse had good taste in maintenance staff.
“So you work here full time?” I asked, trying to make conversation.
“Yeah, about six months now. My title is General Maintenance, but I was hired for the plumbing specifically. Pipes just aren’t made for the amount of water that comes in and out of this place in a single day.” He glanced back at me with a knowing smirk. “Michael hired me after I fixed one of their saunas.”
“Michael?” I asked, following Brad through the locker room I’d been in at least a dozen times.
“The owner,” Brad replied. “He’s... particular about the place.”
I’d been coming to this bathhouse for over a year and had never met the owner. Rumors swirled about him of course. Mostly that he was some kind of demon who fed off sexual energy, that he was centuries old, or that he could read minds. But then again, people always made up stories about successful business owners who kept to themselves. I didn’t really care what he was. I was just thankful for the bathhouse.
“We’ve gotta go through the roman bath to get to the private pools,” Brad explained as we approached another door. “Fair warning if you haven’t been here before. It’s usually pretty active on Friday nights.”
I almost laughed. “Don’t worry. I’m a regular here.”
Brad glanced back at me, his smile shifting into an expression of relief. “Thank god,” he grinned. “This will bewayless awkward.”
The moment Brad pushed open the door, the humid air hit me like a wall. The Roman-style bath was a large, open space with a central pool surrounded by smaller hot pools and lounging areas. True to Brad’s warning, it was busy. Men of all shapes, sizes, and species lounged naked in the water or on the benches. Some were chatting casually, others were openly fucking either in or at the edges of the pools. It was a delicious sight.
I kept my eyes forward as we walked along the edge of the main pool, though it was hard not to notice the appreciative glances thrown my way. In my work clothes with a tool belt, I stood out. But it was hard to focus on fixing things when I was rock hard. So for the moment, I’d ignore them.
“Down this hall,” Brad directed, leading me past the steam room and sauna I’d been to plenty of times. “Have you been down to the private pools before?”
“Yep. A few times.”
We descended a narrow staircase, the sounds of the main bath fading behind us. The basement level was cooler, dimly lit with blue lights that gave everything an otherworldly glow. A long corridor stretched before us with numbered doors on either side.
“So what exactly is the problem?” I asked as we walked.
“One of the jets in Pool Three is shooting water out at weird angles, and the drain is backing up. I replaced the pump yesterday and cleaned out the jets, but something’s still not right.” Brad ran a hand through his short hair. “I’m starting to think it might be something in the main line.”
“Could be,” I nodded. “Especially in a place like this. You’d be amazed what I’ve had to fish out of drains.”
Brad laughed, a warm sound that echoed in the narrow hallway. “Oh, I can imagine. Been here long enough to have seen some shit… literally and figuratively.”
When we reached pool three, Brad pulled out a key card and swiped it through the reader. The door clicked open, revealing a private room with a small pool. Though it was more of a large hot tub really, and built directly into the floor. Blue lights illuminated the water from beneath, casting rippling patterns on the ceiling.
“See that jet there?” Brad pointed to one of the outlets along the side of the pool. “Water’s coming out sideways instead of straight, and when you turn it on full blast, it sprays all over the room.”
I set down my tool bag and crouched by the pool’s edge, examining the jet. “Mind if I turn it on?”
“Go ahead,” Brad nodded toward a control panel on the wall. “But you might want to step back.”
I flipped the switch, and sure enough, water shot out at a wild angle, spraying across the tile floor. I quickly turned it off.
“Yeah, definitely something lodged in there,” I said, already rolling up my sleeves. “Might need to drain it partially to get a better look.”
“That’s what I was thinking too,” Brad agreed, moving to help me. “There’s a drain valve behind that panel.”
As we worked side by side, I couldn’t help but notice how efficiently Brad moved, how familiar he was with the system. He wasn’t just some eye candy. He really knew what he was doing.
“So how’d you end up working at the bathhouse?” I asked as we removed the access panel.
Brad’s lips quirked up at one corner. “I came here to fix the sauna. I’d never seen this place before. Michael was impressed and gave me a free night here as a tip.”