“That’s a good tip,” I grinned.
“It was alife changingtip,” Brad smiled back. “By the end of the night, Michael and I were dating and I had a new job.”
“Wait, you’re dating the owner?” I asked, unable to hide my surprise. That certainly wasn’t in any of the bathhouse rumors I’d heard.
Brad nodded, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Going on four months now. Best relationship I’ve ever had.”
“So the rumors about him being some kind of ancient sex demon...?”
Brad laughed, the sound echoing off the tiled walls. “Well, the demon part is accurate. The ancient part? Not so much. He’s only a couple hundred years old.” He said it so casually, like he was discussing the weather instead of confirming he was dating a literal demon.
“Damn,” I whistled. “That’s quite the workplace romance.”
“Tell me about it,” Brad agreed, handing me a wrench. “Michael’s actually pretty normal once you get to know him. He’s a bit of a hedonist though, so a bathhouse made perfect sense for him.”
We worked together to loosen the fixture, our hands occasionally brushing in the confined space. Despite the professional context, I couldn’t help noticing how warm his skin felt against mine. There was something magnetic about Brad that went beyond his obvious good looks.
“Hold this steady,” he instructed, guiding my hand to grip a pipe while he worked on loosening a connection. “So what’s your story? How’d a Southern boy end up fixing pipes in this city?”
“Needed a fresh start,” I said, keeping it simple. “Followed a job opportunity here after trade school. Supernatural clients pay better than regular ones, and this city’s got plenty of them.”
“I hear that,” Brad nodded. “Before I met Michael, I was making half as much working for a big franchise plumbing company that I hated. I’m glad I’m here now.”
As the pipe came loose, a rush of water splashed out, soaking the front of my shirt. “Shit!” I jumped back, but it was too late.
“Sorry about that,” Brad said, though he was clearly fighting a smile. “Should’ve warned you to stand clear.”
I looked down at my drenched shirt clinging to my chest. “Guess I’ll be hitting the locker room sooner than planned.”
Brad’s eyes lingered on my chest for a moment before he cleared his throat and turned back to the pipe. “Let’s see what we’ve got here.” He reached into the opening and after a moment of fishing around, pulled out something long and rubbery.
“Is that...?” I started, leaning in for a closer look.
“Yep,” Brad confirmed, holding up what was unmistakably a long tentacle shaped dildo. “How the hell did that get in there?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “And here I thought I’d seen everything.”
“In this place? Not even close.” Brad tossed the dildo off to the side to be thrown out later. “You wouldn’t believe some of the things I’ve found in these drains.”
As we worked to reassemble the fixture, I found myself enjoying Brad’s company. There was an easy camaraderie between us, professional respect mixed with the natural chemistry of two gay men who found each other attractive. Not that I was looking to complicate things, especially not with someone who was taken. And by a demon, no less.
“So you said you’re a regular here?” Brad asked as he tightened the last bolt.
“At least once a week,” I nodded. “Sometimes more if work’s been particularly stressful.”
“I get it. I used to hit the bar a lot. Not a great way to destress, let me tell you.” He stood up, wiping his hands on a rag. “Want to test it out?”
I flipped the switch, and this time the jet sprayed perfectly into the pool. “Looks like we fixed it.”
“Nice work,” Brad said, offering me a high five which I returned, our palms slapping together with a satisfying sound. “Thanks for the assist.”
“No problem. It’s nice working with someone who knows what they’re doing for a change.”
Brad began packing up the tools, his movements efficient and practiced. “You know, Michael’s always looking for good help around here. If you’re interested, I could put in a word. The pay’s excellent.”
“I might just take you up on that,” I said, genuinely intrigued. “I like my job, but I wouldn’t mind better pay or being in the bathhouse everyday. That sounds incredible.”
“Cool. Why don’t you give me your number? I’ll text you next time something comes up.” There was nothing flirtatious in histone at all. It was just professional courtesy. But my heart still did a little flip when he handed me his phone.