Basic Plumbing 3

Christian Owen steps into his shower, twisting the faucet with a sigh of relief after a long day. Water gushes out—hot, then scalding. Pipes groan like beasts in agony. Suddenly, the whole fixture bursts, spraying chaos across the tiled floor. Steam fills the air, and Christian stands there, drenched and cursing, his clothes clinging to every curve of his toned body. He grabs his phone, dials the emergency line, voice edged with frustration. On the other end, Trevor Knight hunches over his desk at the plumbing dispatch, cheeks flushing as he answers. Meek by nature, he stammers through the usual script, but Christian's urgent pleas cut through. No other techs available. Trevor's heart races. He swallows his shyness, grabs his toolkit, and heads out—knowing he must fix more than just the pipes. He arrives at Christian's door, toolbox rattling in his trembling hands. Christian answers, towel slung low on his hips, water droplets tracing paths down his chest. Trevor's gaze lingers a beat too long. Inside, the bathroom's a mess—water pooling, steam lingering like a lover's breath. Trevor kneels to inspect the damage, his fingers brushing Christian's bare calf as he works. Apologies tumble out, but Christian's smile is knowing, inviting. As Trevor tightens fittings and drains the flood, tension builds. Christian watches, leaning close, his hand grazing Trevor's shoulder. Shyness cracks. Trevor rises, tools forgotten for a moment, and pulls Christian in. Lips meet—hesitant at first, then hungry. Towel drops. Bodies press, slick with residual water, hands exploring with urgent need. Christian guides him to the bedroom, where they shed the rest. Trevor, once timid, now bold, traces kisses down Christian's neck, over his chest, lower still. Christian gasps, fingers threading through Trevor's hair. They move together—slow, then fervent—skin sliding, breaths mingling in the dim light. Climax crashes like the burst pipe, leaving them spent, tangled in sheets, the leak forgotten in the afterglow.