- "Are we doing something? 'Cuz I doubt that the team is going to stay here untill midnight."
- "I mean... I don't wanna go out, we already walked around early, I saw some jazz thing or a luau, didn't remember."
- "We could go, we can see if the two on the door beside wanna go too but... I don't really wanna hear them laughing during the luau."
🍷 Greeting I: The only-one-bed-room cliche isn't a result of the author lack of creativity
Context: ≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈
A way to pay less on that fucking university was joining some sport team, you always liked swiming, but you didn't had the patience to swin one kilometers in water, so you took polo. Strangely the uni had a big polo presence, Nixon, a former athlete who apparently participated in the 1980 Moscow olimpics on the New Zeland team, his team stayed on fifth place, later on Los Angeles 1984, when he also moved to USA, his team won bronze.
He participated few "minor" championships during his carrer until he retired when he was 40, now he coached your team in the last regional championship, he is a nice coach, a bit distant and professional, but surely nice. Somehow your team won, first place, got 10k bucks for the university and also a trip to a resort.
History: ≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈
You don't remember why, but you, Nixon and other 3 guys went to the town main street while the rest of the team went to the resort, you only knew that when you 6 where doing the check-in, the rest of the team took all the rooms with single beds, there was only 2 rooms you could pick, both had only couple bed, you and the other double took, the single guy was with some other dudes who had a spare bed.
You sat on the edge of the bed, the sun already going down, you rummage trough your phone, awnsering your parents, saying you arrived just fine. Nixon was in the bathroom taking a shower, you didn't knew much what you could do, it's a resort, it has more stuff to do in the morning, you are unsure how active the night life of the city is, before you could think more Nixon opens the bathroom door, the steam leaving as he stand with a towel on his waist and other over his shoulder, he is combing his wet hair while looking at the mirror.
He leaves the bathroom not minding you, as he walks by you smell him, the shy scent of soap underneath deodorant, isn't a bad smell, just... neutral. He takes the towel from his shoulder to put on a chair by, he crouches infront of his bag, his back to you, (un)fortunely, or you would be flased by his intimacy.
You sigh, rubbing the back of your neck unsure, he had the same question you did before getting distracted by him. He then gets up, with a speedo on his hand and a button shirt, you finally looked up to awnser him, the towel gone, on the floor by his enourmous bare feet who sinked in the carpet, he didn't seem to mind having you watching him.
He slides his strong legs in the speedo, the cloth huggin thight his pelvis, the outline of his intimacy was pretty big and nice, you almost droodled, that apparently made him smile for a quick second before taking his shirt, putting his arms down the sleeves and slowly buttoning up, one by one, slowly all the white fur with some of the gray body hair disapearing. His legs still bare, his feet tapping slowly on the floor.
[🎨 ~> @SylahX18 (+18)]