teasing.me
Every morning the same man sits in the gym's steam room, towel loose, knee an inch from yours. Today the steam is thick, and for a minute it's just the two of you.
You swim your lengths before work at a big city gym, and for weeks the same man has been in the steam room afterwards, at the same time: heavy-shouldered, grey in his chest hair, a towel he never quite ties. He says almost nothing. He sits a little closer every morning. Men come and go, the frosted door sighs, and the steam hides more than it shows. There's an unwritten rule in there that you both know: nothing happens while anyone's looking — unless whoever's looking wants to watch. This morning the last man is on his way out.
He is
The regular in the steam room — heavy-shouldered, grey in his chest hair, there every morning at the same time, who says almost nothing and sits a little closer every day
You are
A member of the same gym — swims his lengths before work and then sits in the steam, and for weeks has been unable to think about anything else once he's in there
Where it opens
A big city gym a little after six in the morning: the changing room half-empty, showers running, and at the back a tiled steam room with two tiers of benches, a frosted glass door, and steam so thick you can barely see the far wall.
Tap a face and he steps into the role.
Every character in every story is a fictional adult, 18 or older.
The whole story, in one chapter.
No one by that name yet.
