Despite what steamy TV shows tried to say, Adonis had never found the locker room to be an erotic place.
The Rink’s locker room was shared between the hockey team and the men from the figure skating club. Because the hockey players outnumbered the figure skaters about ten to one, most of the time Adonis was in the locker room, it was a raucous place of snapping towels and loud jokes.
And it smelled like a gym bag.
Adonis was not shy about his body. Quite the opposite, in fact. He often posted shirtless or nearly-nude pictures of himself to a select, private group of people on his social media. Several times, he had thought about starting an online fan page for his nudes. He loved to be watched. Look up exhibitionist in the dictionary, and you’d probably find “Adonis Costa” there.
That being said, he didn’t mind at all stripping naked in front of the hockey team, but he didn’t enjoy their towel snapping and jokes. They never targeted him or the other figure skaters. Mostly, they left each other alone. But the hockey players just took up so muchspace.
It was a blessing whenever the locker room was empty or mostly empty, as it was now. He didn’t see anyone else in it when he left the Rink and went to rinse off.
Adonis deposited his clothes in his locker, slung a towel over his shoulder, and walked naked from the lockers to the showers, which were in a single large room with no stalls or curtains.
He turned on one of the showers and stood under the hot spray, letting it wash the sweat off him. He pumped soap into his hands and scrubbed his body, letting it froth over his chest and legs. He raised his arms, cleaning his armpits, and then reached between his legs to scrub soap into his crotch and between his ass.
When he felt clean, he let the water rinse the soap off. He stayed for a moment under the water, his eyes closed, and then turned the water off. He dried his hair, then his body, and then wrapped the towel around his waist.
He hummed to himself as he walked back to his locker. He tossed his towel aside and was reaching for a pair of clean underwear from his bag when he heard, “Oh. You are here.”
Adonis almost fell over.
Sebastiaan Koning leaned against the lockers in the other corner. He was gloriously, almost, naked. He wore only a small, tight pair of black briefs. In one hand, he held an athletic cup; in the other, his shirt.
“I’m here,” Adonis said, and then decided that it was one of the stupider things he’d said.
“I see that,” Bash said. He slipped the athletic cup into a jockstrap and set it aside. Then he hooked his thumbs beneath the waistband of his underwear and pulled them off.
Adonis almost fainted.
Bash had a beautiful body. Wide shoulders and broad pecs, everything tapering into a narrow waist, then powerful thighs. There was hair on his stomach that grew dark and thick around his groin. Adonis quickly looked away from Bash’s cock. He didn’t get a good picture of it, and that was fine.
“Did you have practice?” Bash said. “I did not see other figure skaters.” He seemed unworried about his nakedness, or Adonis’s.
Adonis was very conscious that he was naked. He worried he might get hard.
He told himself to think depressing thoughts. Anything to prevent a boner. That wouldnotbe appropriate.
“It wasn’t real practice,” Adonis said. “Just my mother recording my free skate program and giving me all the critiques.”
Bash nodded. “Your mother. She is the coach of the figure skating team, yes?” He pulled on a pair of compression shorts, grabbed his jockstrap, and stepped into it. He adjusted the cup around his crotch, fidgeting until it was in place.
Adonis swallowed and turned away. He needed to cover his cock. He pulled his underwear on quickly.
“Yes, she is,” he said. “She’s very strict.”
“She is,” Bash said. Adonis turned to look at him. Bash was watching him closely, and Adonis’s cheeks reddened. “I hear her at the figure skating practices sometimes.”
“She sounds like a drill sergeant, doesn’t she?”
Bash laughed. His laugh was deep and rich. “She does.” Bash continued getting dressed. He was clearly getting ready for his own practice. “Do you fear her?”
The question's directness surprised Adonis. “Do I fear her? Am I afraid of my mother?”
“Yes. That’s what I asked. Are you?”
“No,” Adonis said, because it was true. “I’m not afraid of her.”
“Your face says you are afraid of her.”
