Stretched out on his belly, his naked asscheeks clenched in taut invitation, Lucas Holliday breathed A deep, inhaling the eucalyptus- disinfectant-sweat-piss-steam aromas. He liked the heady combination of fresh-clean and funky-dirty. It excited him. 
Small red and blue bulbs alternated in the shade - less ceiling fixtures, casting eerie, sometimes grotesque patterns along the lengthy corridor. Open doors allowed the light and shadows into many of the small cubicles. He stretched, sinuously, extending his arms far out in front of him, straining his legs to their fullest possible length, slightly arching his body higher at both ends, an arc of delectable male flesh.
He felt good.
The soft squeak - slap of rubber thongs in the corridor caught his ear, but he didn’t turn his head to look. He wasn’t surprised when the footfalls stopped outside his room. Not many of the steam…