Chapter Text
Steam curled thick through the room in the Saint Denis bathhouse, fogging the mirrors and filling the air with the scent of soap. Tiled floors gleamed under lantern light, littered with wet footsteps. You were steady on your feet, avoiding puddles of water, and avoiding drunken men wandering around even more.
The day was getting along, late afternoon light already shining through the sheer curtains. You entered one of the smaller rooms, it was quieter in here today, less customers than usual. You pause for a moment at the mirror, adjusting your outfit. Your clothes cling to your skin, fitting well around your curves, as the job requires.
Your sleeves were rolled neatly up to your elbows, skirts gathered just enough to move with ease around the tubs. You smooth the fabric underneath your hands, making sure to appear the epitome of a well mannered woman. The outfit isn't the most fancy, especially not compared to the working ladies that often do their work down by the bar. You wear just a simple skirt and a lace detailed shirt with the buttons undone to reveal a little bit to the customers, but not enough to be improper.
This is your world, paying men, polite words, careful routines, and risky professionalism.
A soft knock on the door draws your attention and you go to poke your head out of the doorway. A voice from the front desk announces, “Miss, a customer’s arrived for you, run the bath.”
You straighten your posture, glancing toward the door with mild curiosity, expecting another refined city gentleman. You run the bath to be perfectly warm, and reach for more clean towels. Before you can finish preparing the room another knock on the door sounds. The door creaks open, and you see your customer. He is broad-shouldered, with dusty boots and a weathered hat in his grasp. You watch the way his eyes scan the steam-filled room, he seems wary.
He looks like something you should keep your distance from. You glance at the numerous weapons secured at his belt in surprise, before putting on your facade of calm and welcoming him in.
“Let me just grab you some clean towels, sir. The bath’ll be ready in a moment.” Your voice is steady despite how out of place this man appears to you.
He places his hat down gently on a side table and turns to you. “That's alright ma'am. Take all the time you need, I'm in no rush.” His words are kind and don't seem to fit with his rough exterior.
“You are here for a bath, right sir?” You meet his eyes now, curious to see if this strange man hasn’t accidentally wandered into a pristine bathhouse instead of a saloon, or the bar downstairs.
He clears his throat, voice gravelly. “Just need a wash, miss.”
You can’t help a small smirk, feeling strangely comfortable in his presence. “City baths aren’t used to cowboys.”
His eyes flicker to yours, a faint, crooked smile tugging at the corner of his lips that you can't help but stare at a little. “Guess I’m about to change that.”
“Yessir. You can get undressed now. I’ll give you some privacy and be back in a moment with more towels.”
You step back, letting him move toward the changing screen. You can no longer see him with your back turned, but you hear his movements, and it is oh so difficult to not sneak a peek at what is underneath all of that cowboy attire.
You hear his boots thudding softly against the floor and the clinking of metal buckles being undone. You take a deep breath, adjusting your clothing again and smoothing the damp cloth over your hands, trying not to let your curiosity get the better of you.
After a moment, you hear splashing as he steps into the bath. When you turn you see broad shoulders sinking below the water and you can't help but notice deep scars marring the skin of his back. The way the light glints across the scar on one of his shoulders draws your attention the most and you find yourself staring.
You must have hesitated a moment too long because he turns to look at you, obviously expecting you to have started your service already.
You blink quickly, startled, and grab the cloth in your hand, letting your fingers curl around it a little tighter than necessary. “Ah… yes, sorry,” you murmur, stepping closer. “Let’s get started, shall we?”
He lets out a low chuckle, the sound beautiful to your ears. “Reckon you’ve never seen scars like these before hm? Every man I see in this city ain’t never even touched a gun that ain' t bein’ used to rob them.”
You can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “No, sir. They haven’t” You press the cloth gently to the curve of his shoulder, working carefully around the scar. “Looks like you’ve had quite your share of adventures.”
The man leans back into your touch. “A few scrapes here and there I suppose.” he says, voice low.
You hum to yourself, letting your hands linger just a moment longer over the puckered scar across his shoulder blade. “What was this one from?”
He shifts slightly under your touch. “Gunshot wound, a mission gone wrong.”
You nod slowly, fingers tracing the edge of the scar gently. “That looks… painful.”
He only grunts in response, agreeing with your observation. You glide your hands over his skin, washing away layers of dirt and blood.
You hesitate a moment, caught between curiosity and caution, not wanting to overstep, he is just another customer afterall. “Sounds like you’ve been through a lot, mister. I suppose the bath’s a rare moment to…uh… forget some of that?”
“Maybe. Can’t say it happens as often as I’d like. Feels good, havin’ someone else care a little, even if I gotta pay.”
“Well, I aim to provide good service,” you murmur, adjusting the cloth to glide down the curve of his spine. “Even cowboys deserve a little comfort.”
He chuckles, leaning back further against the tub, leaning back into your touch once again. “You’ve got a way of makin’ this damn city feel less, suffocatin’” he says.
You bite back a small grin, trying to hide how his words affected you. “Careful what you say. You might just make me blush.”
His shoulders rise with a small laugh. “Ain’t the first time a lady’s made me feel a little… out of place.”
You pause for a moment, letting the cloth rest in your hands, just above the waterline. The steam filling the room feels thicker all of a sudden.
“Out of place, huh?” you tease lightly, brushing a damp strand of hair behind your ear. “Doesn’t seem like you mind it too much, mister.”
The man stretches out, letting his arms hang over the sides of the tub, and you reach to clean those too. “Ain’t every day a man gets a lady who ain’t scared of someone like me.”
You hum softly at his words, thinking about the implications behind it. He wasn't that scary once you saw past the guns and blood. He was kind, and gentle. “I’m definitely not scared,” you reply, voice low. “Curious, maybe. But not scared. You seem like a good man.”
He lets out a deep sigh, tensing up slightly. “Oh trust me, miss, I am anything but.”
You lean a little closer, adjusting the cloth as it glides down his back. “I trust my instincts. And you're a heck of a lot better than most men who pass through here. I'd like my job a whole lot more if I saw more men like you.”
It was true. Your eyes have opened up to a whole new side of the world. Up until now you had never interacted with any cowboy. It was just businessmen or fishermen who tried to get more out of you than was appropriate.
He chuckles low, shaking his head. “Ain’t used to hearin’ that, miss. You sure are somethin’ else.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” You wring out the cloth in your hands, reaching the end of your service. “Well, that’s your bath done. Keep in mind I’m almost always here, feel free to come around more. I’d like to hear more of those adventure stories.” You were wary of overstepping any boundaries, if your boss could hear this he wouldn't be too happy at your professionalism being on thin ice.
The man straightens up, preparing to exit the bath. He turns to meet your eyes once again, his expression soft. “I’ll be sure to remember that, miss. Thank you.”
You nod, standing up to give him privacy to change again. “Thank you, sir. I hope to see you again.”
With that you left the room, ready to meet your next customer. When you returned later, the man was gone and you were left with just the memory of the handsome stranger with the kind blue eyes.