3
My last shift was uneventful. We had a psych patient who’d been admitted the day before, a woman in her forties who kept insisting the nurses were stealing her thoughts.
There was a kid with strep throat whose mother wouldn’t stop apologizing for bringing him in.
And a guy with heartburn who was convinced it was a heart attack until the EKG came back normal, then suddenly couldn’t wait to leave.
It was the kind of shift where I felt like I was wading through molasses all night and nothing felt urgent. I found myself checking the clock every twenty minutes, which was weird because usually I wasn’t that kind of person. I just got lost in the work.
But this time I kept thinking about the address in my pocket.
I’d left it on my nightstand this morning after I woke up. I’d stared at it for a solid minute before forcing myself to look away, to shower, to eat some cereal standing over the sink like always. Then I’d gone to work and tried to forget about it, which hadn’t worked at all.
Around three in the morning, during one of those lulls where the board had actually emptied for maybe ten minutes, I found myself in the break room staring at nothing in particular.
Roz came in to grab something from the fridge and didn’t say anything about it, just gave me a knowing nod.
She wasn’t waiting to see if I’d actually take her advice.
I’m sure she knew the moment she wrote down that address that it would haunt me until curiosity got the better of me. That woman was a master at her craft.
By the time I clocked out at eight, I knew I had no other choice. I was going to that bathhouse, one way or another. And, even if nothing came of it, at least I’d know what I was missing. That I could live with.
I drove home in the full light of morning, watching the city come alive around me.
People in business clothes headed to their offices, a food truck was setting up on a corner, and I even saw someone sitting on a bench with a coffee and a newspaper, like they were an extra in a movie.
I tried to remember the last time I’d done something like that. Sat somewhere just to sit.
I couldn’t.
At the apartment, I showered thoroughly, scrubbing myself down until my skin was flushed and pink.
Then I stood in front of my closet for at least five solid minutes trying to figure out what to wear.
Most of what I owned was scrubs or gym clothes and nearly all of it needed to be washed.
I managed to find a pair of jeans that didn’t have a stain on them at last and a button-up shirt that was only slightly wrinkled.
I looked at myself in the mirror and barely recognized the person looking back.
He looked almost normal.
Then I picked up the note from my nightstand and read the address one more time. The warehouse district on the east side of town. Traffic would be light after rush hour. I just hoped they were open.
I folded it carefully and put it in my pocket. Then I grabbed my keys and headed out before I could second guess myself. Even if they were closed, at least I would be out in the daylight for the first time in years. It had been too long since I knew what midday sun felt like on my skin.
The warehouse district was quieter than I expected.
Most of the buildings looked quiet, their windows dark and their loading docks empty in the morning.
The parking lots were full though, all the workers inside and doing their normal people jobs at normal people hours.
I drove slowly down the street, checking addresses, wondering if Roz had pranked me or if the place had closed down years ago.
Then I saw it. A nondescript metal building with no signage, just a small neon sign above the door that said OPEN.
The address matched. There was a small parking lot on the side with maybe a dozen cars, most of them looking like they belonged to people who could afford to be somewhere nicer.
I pulled in and sat for a moment, my hands still on the steering wheel.
This was it. The moment where I could still turn around, go home, convince myself I’d tried and it wasn’t meant to be.
I got out of the truck before I could think too hard about it.
The door was heavier than I expected, and it closed behind me with a soft pneumatic hiss.
I found myself in a small waiting room with fluorescent lighting and clean floors.
There was a desk at the far side with a man behind it.
He was older than me, maybe mid-fifties, with gray hair and eyes that were fixed on the book in front of him.
“Membership card,” he said without looking up.
“I uh…” I paused. “I’ve never been here before.”
He looked up then, his eyes raking over me. “I’m going to need to see some ID then and I’ll need you to fill out this membership application.”
He slid a form across the desk and a pen.
I picked them up with hands that felt oddly clumsy, like I was operating them remotely.
The application was straightforward enough.
Name, age, emergency contact, and sexual health status.
I hesitated on that last one for a long moment before writing down negative across the board.
It was a bathhouse for gay men. People fucked. I knew that from the start.
I filled it out and handed it back. The man scanned my ID, typed something into his computer, and then looked at me again with an expression that said he wanted to get back to his book as soon as possible.
“First time?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“You look exhausted, so this might be just what you need.”
He wasn’t being unkind about it, just factual.
And he was right. “The basics are simple. Leave everything you own in your locker. The only thing allowed past that point is a towel, your key, and glasses if you need them. Absolutely no electronic devices inside of any kind. We’re big on consent here, so if someone says no, that’s their answer.
You don’t ask twice. Play nice with everyone, be respectful, and just try to relax and have some fun while you’re here.”
I nodded, suddenly feeling silly for even caring about what clothes I wore to the bathhouse now. I wasn’t going to have them long anyway. “Sounds reasonable.”
“You’ll find a towel in your locker as well.” he said, already reaching behind him toward a wall of keys.
“Okay.”
He handed me a key on a coiled wristband. “Locker twenty-two. Welcome to the bathhouse.”
So the place had no real name. Interesting. I supposed the clientele liked it that way. It sounded more anonymous.
The locker room was cleaner than I expected, and mostly empty.
A couple of older men were chatting in the next row over completely nude, paying me no attention whatsoever.
I found my locker and undressed slowly, feeling exposed despite the fact there was nobody to watch me.
I wrapped the towel around my waist and stood there for a moment, looking at my own body in the mirror on the opposite wall.
I was pale from years of sleeping through daylight and muscular from the gym, which was a positive I supposed.
But my eyes still had that hollow look to them, like someone who’d given up on living life a long time ago.
I looked away and headed through the lockerroom.
As I rounded the corner, I came upon the open plan showers.
There were a couple more guys here, one of them human, one a dog-like creature with short black fur and pointy ears, and the other was a hulking werebear.
And they, to my surprise, were all helping one another wash up.
And by wash up, I do mean they were slowly jerking each other off using the soap from the dispenser on the wall.
Of course I couldn’t help but stand there and watch.
It had been weeks since I’d had sex with anyone and my own jerk off sessions were clinical at best.
So the moment I saw these men smiling, laughing, and rubbing one another down, I was stopped dead in my tracks.
It was playful and fun and really fucking hot.
One of them, the human, blond and maybe a few years younger than me, caught my eye and grinned. He didn’t stop what he was doing. Neither did the others. They just kept moving, easy and comfortable with each other, like this was the most natural thing in the world.
I felt heat flood my face and my dick start to harden under the towel. I should have looked away. Should have kept moving. But I stood there like an idiot, watching three strangers pleasure each other in a shower, and felt something crack open inside my chest that I’d sealed up a long time ago.
“You coming in or just gonna watch?” the blond one asked, his voice warm and teasing.
I opened my mouth and nothing came out. My heart was hammering so hard I thought it might break through my ribs.
“First timer,” the werebear said to the others, not unkindly. He had a deep voice that rumbled like gravel. “Let him get his bearings.”
The dog-creature laughed and got down on his knees, taking the werebear’s cock into his mouth. The blond kept his eyes on me though, curious now instead of just playful.
“I’m just...” I gestured vaguely at the rest of the bathhouse. “Exploring.”
“Well, explore,” he said. “But come back if you want some company. You’re cute.”
I nodded stupidly and forced my feet to move, heading deeper into the building before my body could betray me any further.
My towel was doing nothing to hide what was happening underneath it, and I was grateful for the dim lighting and the fact that most people seemed to be minding their own business.
The hallway opened up into a larger space, a massive roman bath with period accurate stonework and an impossibly high ceiling.
All around the bath were people sitting on the edge, in the deeper water, or clearly fucking as the water splashed around them.
Steam rose up, filling the space with the scent of chlorine and eucalyptus.
It was unlike anything I’d ever seen before and it did nothing to stop my dick from hardening even further.
I passed a couple making out against one wall, their hands already exploring each other’s wet skin as I searched for a private spot of my own.
The deep end looked promising, a section where the water was dark enough that visibility dropped to almost nothing.
I waded in slowly, feeling the warm water close around my legs, my waist, my chest.
It was heated to body temperature, maybe warmer, and it felt like stepping into another world entirely.
I found a spot in the corner where the shadows were deepest and let myself sink down until the water was up to my neck.
Around me, I could hear the soft sounds of pleasure, the occasional moan or laugh.
Someone was definitely fucking a few feet away, but I couldn’t see them clearly enough to feel like I was intruding or spying on them.
My hand found my cock under the water without any real decision on my part.
It was already fully hard, had been since I’d watched those three men in the shower.
I started stroking slowly, carefully, like I was testing whether this was actually happening or if I’d fallen asleep in my truck and this was just some fever dream my exhausted brain had conjured up.
A shadow moved in the water next to me. I froze for a second, but then I heard a voice, low and warm.
“Hey.”
I turned to see a man, maybe around my age, with dark skin and kind eyes. He was close enough that I could see him clearly despite the dim light. Not so close that he was invading my space, but close enough that the intention was clear.
“Hi,” I managed.
“We don’t usually do names here,” he said, and held out a hand.
“Oh. Okay,” I said, and shook it. His grip was firm, his skin warm. “Nice to meet you I guess.”
“First time?” he asked, and I nodded. “Yeah, I figured. You’ve got that look. Like you’re not sure if you’re allowed to be here.”
“I’m not sure I am,” I admitted.
He smiled. “You’re allowed. You’re here, you’re not hurting anyone, you’re being respectful. That’s all that matters.”
We floated there for a moment, and I realized I’d stopped stroking myself. My hand had gone still under the water, resting against my thigh.
“You don’t have to do anything,” the man said quietly. “We can just talk if you want. Or I can leave you alone. Whatever you need.”
I thought about Roz’s words. About needing to remember what it felt like to want something. About needing to feel alive again.
“I don’t know what I’m doing here,” I said honestly.
“Most people don’t, their first time,” he replied. “But you came anyway. That’s a start.”
He was right. I had come. I’d left my apartment, I’d driven across the city, I’d walked into this place despite every instinct telling me it was a mistake. And now I was standing in warm water with a man who was looking at me like he’d be happy to do whatever I asked of him.
“What if I’m not good at this?” I asked, and it came out more vulnerable than I intended.
“At what? Being here? Fucking?” he moved a little closer, his hand finding mine under the water. “You don’t have to be good at anything. Besides, some of us are just here to help others out, no reciprocation needed.”
The implication was clear.
“I… uh… I’m not very good at that,” I said, shaking my head. “Usually I’m the one helping the other person out.”
“Well, there’s glory holes upstairs if that’s more your vibe,” he nodded. “Or I’m sure there’s some guys here in the bath that would be willing to let you do that. How do you feel about everyone watching you?”
Anxiety bloomed in my chest. “Uh… not great.”
He smiled. “Maybe the glory holes then. Nobody will see you and you can service all the guys you want.”
He pulled a hand out of the water, pointing toward a door on the far side of the pool.
I noticed the intricate pattern of light and dark flesh curling down his arm.
He had vitiligo. “Take that hallway to the first set of stairs on the left. At the top you’ll see a bunch of rooms. Pick any one you like and I’m sure you’ll get someone who’d love your help.”
He gave me a wink. “Maybe you’ll see me there too.”
I nodded, my cheeks hot with embarrassment. “Y-Yeah. Thanks.”
“No problem, buddy. Enjoy the bathhouse.”
I made my way out of the pool, grabbing my towel and wrapping it around my waist as I climbed the wet steps.
My heart was still hammering in my chest, a mix of anticipation and nerves that I hadn’t felt in years.
The hallway the man had pointed to was dimly lit leading to a set of stairs.
I took them up and just like he said, there was another long hall lined with doors on either side.
Some were open just a crack, others sealed shut.
I could hear sounds coming from behind a few of them, moans, the wet sounds of sex, someone calling out in ecstasy as god knows what was done to them.
I picked a door at random, number seven, and pushed it open.