Naked without sex challenge
Nov. 24th, 2004 05:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
brynwulf posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
ds_flashfictionWhat fun! Thanks to my idles ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kelliem and aukestrel for stellar betaing and helping with the logistics of a "dressing" room. :)
Mark didn’t think he’d ever been in the dressing room when it was THIS quiet. He was used to the sounds of men yelling at each other across the room, music being played in someone’s corner, running water, sticks falling, tape being torn. The only sound now was the rustle of clothing as he and Fraser stripped. Mark’s sweater was already a steaming heap on the floor. As his jeans and underwear followed, he reach for a towel and had to grin.
“Your grandmother would be proud, Ben,” he joked, nodding at the neatly folded stack on the bench between them.
Ben glanced between the pile of jeans, t-shirt and sweater thrown haphazardly on the floor by Mark and his own attire. “I do plan to put them back on, Mark. This way, the creases stay in place and …” he stopped at Mark’s snicker. “Well…yes, I suppose old habits die hard.”
Mark could only wish it were so. Old habits, indeed. Anyway, a hot shower was going to feel SO good after their bout of street hockey and his knee could use a good soak.
Ben was now stepping out of his union suit, unself-consciously folding it to some precise unit only known to himself.
“You’ve stayed in pretty good shape for having a desk job, Constable,” Mark teased, boldly looking Ben up and down. He considered himself a connoisseur of the male body, having seen more naked jocks than the average guy on the street, and Ben looked pretty damn good.
He still blushes at the drop of a hat, Mark thought.
Ben turned his back to Mark, the flush fading slowly from his skin, and rummaged through his bag for a towel. Mark was treated to the long line of Ben’s backside, an enticing sight even through Ben didn’t have the muscle tone and chiseled body that Mark had earned from hard work and workouts. And his skin was very pale, right down to arms.
He still blushes at the drop of a hat, Mark thought. Or perhaps Ben was reminded that they were no longer boys in school together, surreptitiously eyeing each other in the old gymnasium.
Mark remembered how hard it always was for Ben to expose himself…in every way. Yes, Ben was a bit sturdier than the last time they’d been together, but he could still remember the strength of Ben’s legs wrapped around him. The firm grip of Ben’s hands at his sides. Oh yes, Ben was still definitely a man Mark could find attractive.
Mark wondered if the feeling was mutual. Oh, their lives had gone in wildly divergent directions, and their latest reconnect hadn’t always been pleasant. But Ben didn’t seem to really be holding it against Mark, when all was said and done. And just the memories of times past was already causing the towel around Mark’s waist to stir.
“Come on Ben…let’s hit the shower.” Mark headed for the tiled floor just off the dressing room. Over his shoulder he yelled, “And don’t forget the soap,” just before yanking the towel’s loose knot and leaving it laying on the floor, just like he’d done his clothes.
kelliem and aukestrel for stellar betaing and helping with the logistics of a "dressing" room. :) Mark didn’t think he’d ever been in the dressing room when it was THIS quiet. He was used to the sounds of men yelling at each other across the room, music being played in someone’s corner, running water, sticks falling, tape being torn. The only sound now was the rustle of clothing as he and Fraser stripped. Mark’s sweater was already a steaming heap on the floor. As his jeans and underwear followed, he reach for a towel and had to grin.
“Your grandmother would be proud, Ben,” he joked, nodding at the neatly folded stack on the bench between them.
Ben glanced between the pile of jeans, t-shirt and sweater thrown haphazardly on the floor by Mark and his own attire. “I do plan to put them back on, Mark. This way, the creases stay in place and …” he stopped at Mark’s snicker. “Well…yes, I suppose old habits die hard.”
Mark could only wish it were so. Old habits, indeed. Anyway, a hot shower was going to feel SO good after their bout of street hockey and his knee could use a good soak.
Ben was now stepping out of his union suit, unself-consciously folding it to some precise unit only known to himself.
“You’ve stayed in pretty good shape for having a desk job, Constable,” Mark teased, boldly looking Ben up and down. He considered himself a connoisseur of the male body, having seen more naked jocks than the average guy on the street, and Ben looked pretty damn good.
He still blushes at the drop of a hat, Mark thought.
Ben turned his back to Mark, the flush fading slowly from his skin, and rummaged through his bag for a towel. Mark was treated to the long line of Ben’s backside, an enticing sight even through Ben didn’t have the muscle tone and chiseled body that Mark had earned from hard work and workouts. And his skin was very pale, right down to arms.
He still blushes at the drop of a hat, Mark thought. Or perhaps Ben was reminded that they were no longer boys in school together, surreptitiously eyeing each other in the old gymnasium.
Mark remembered how hard it always was for Ben to expose himself…in every way. Yes, Ben was a bit sturdier than the last time they’d been together, but he could still remember the strength of Ben’s legs wrapped around him. The firm grip of Ben’s hands at his sides. Oh yes, Ben was still definitely a man Mark could find attractive.
Mark wondered if the feeling was mutual. Oh, their lives had gone in wildly divergent directions, and their latest reconnect hadn’t always been pleasant. But Ben didn’t seem to really be holding it against Mark, when all was said and done. And just the memories of times past was already causing the towel around Mark’s waist to stir.
“Come on Ben…let’s hit the shower.” Mark headed for the tiled floor just off the dressing room. Over his shoulder he yelled, “And don’t forget the soap,” just before yanking the towel’s loose knot and leaving it laying on the floor, just like he’d done his clothes.
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no subject
Date: 2004-11-24 06:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-24 09:24 pm (UTC)I am so glad you wrote about Mark, he just never gets enough fic time!
Thank you for a fantastic story!
no subject
Date: 2004-11-25 04:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-25 01:48 pm (UTC)