"There aren't, thank fuck," Steven assures him, hastily. "I asked one of the doctors from work when I got a physical--uh, not mandatory, voluntary since it had been over five years since my last--and at first she thought I was asking if I could catch someone's, uh, non-sexual illness while having sex with them and when I explained about, uh, syphilis and the clap and AIDs she was... pretty disturbed."

He's quiet for a moment. "But. They're a thing where I'm from. I mean, I'm clean! But... they're definitely a thing. My, uh, favorite uncle died from something he caught that way." A shaky sigh. "It really fucked me up when I was a kid. You could see him just. Wasting away."

He shakes his head. "But there's nothing like that to worry about here. So, uh, there's nothing really stopping anyone from opening up our kind of bathhouse. They just. Don't."