I Smashed The Room Service

Hey Swēt, I have a confession. There's a hotel I keep going back to, and it's honestly not for the rooms. It's for the boy who cleans them.

My work has me travelling most months, same route, same city, and after a while I found this one hotel that I made my regular. Decent place, with very good soundproofing! What kept me booking it wasn't the breakfast, ehn. It was Timi.

I clocked him around the second trip, when a colleague tagged along to see the place I'd been raving about.

He was one of the staff, and the whole evening he kept cutting me eye, flirting so openly that even my colleague leaned over and said 'that one likes you o.' I laughed it off and went up to my room, but I slept knowing.

Next trip I came back low-key hoping to run into him, and the man wasn't even on duty. On my next trip, God finally did me a favour. He was on, and when I walked in he personally followed me up to sort out my check-in, taking his sweet time in that room.

We talked, he kept flirting, and I heard myself ask what time he closed. I told him, plain, to come back after his shift. A few hours later, a knock, that soft 'room service' through the door, and there he stood, out of the uniform, cleaned up, somehow finer than before. Then I stopped him, because I wasn't about to have my own room smelling like sex. I told him to sort us somewhere else. He came back dangling a set of keys and took me up to a suite nobody was using that night.