Nico slowly turned around. The blue-haired guy was walking towards his own locker but his eyes were on Nico. Up close, he looked even more overwhelming. The veins on his arms mapped out a subway system Nico would very much like to ride.

"Hey," the guy said. His voice was deeper than Nico expected, scratching something pleasant in the back of Nico's brain.

Nico, whose verbal processing unit was currently rebooting, managed a brilliant: "Oh. Hi."

The guy didn't say anything else, he simply held Nico’s gaze just a touch too long. Nico was suddenly very aware of the fact he was only wearing his shorts, but the guy’s eyes traveled down and back up with an appreciation that suggested he didn't mind the view. He disappeared among the walls of lockers, and Nico, pulse slightly elevated, headed to the showers.

He picked a stall at the far end, turned on the water, and stepped in. But he didn't click the door shut. He left it cracked. Just a little. A question mark.

Steam filled the small tiled box. Nico stood under the spray, the heat loosening the knot in his shoulders. A moment later, the distinctive slap of wet flip-flops echoed in the room.

Through the open gap, Nico saw him. The guy was now wrapped only in a towel, walking to the stall directly opposite Nico's. He caught Nico watching. Instead of looking away, he smiled and hung his towel on the door handle. He stepped under his own spray, leaving his door wide open.

He started washing his hair, the blue dye looking even brighter against the white tile, but his eyes never left Nico. Nico didn't look away. The water was hot, but he was shivering.

With his hair wet and plastered to his forehead, the guy took a sneaky glance around the empty room. Then, with a decisive move, he crossed the narrow corridor.

"Room for one more?" the guy asked, though he was already closing Nico's door behind him, sealing them into the foggy stall. Nico nodded. This was exactly what he had spent the last hour imagining.

The shower was designed for one person, optimally one person who didn't move much, so the addition of a second broad-shouldered man left nowhere to go but against each other. Every movement became touch. Every breath was shared air.

For once, his brain shut up. There was only friction and release. A way to get out of his own head and deeply into his body. Simple. And Nico really needed simple.

***

Walking home, Nico felt lighter. His lingering sense of accomplishment had nothing to do with his actual workout. He unlocked his apartment door, stepping into the hallway with a soft sigh.

"Well," a voice said from the kitchen. "Don't you look relaxed."

Jamie was leaning against the counter, eating cereal directly from the box. He had finally put on a tank top and seemed relatively at peace with himself.

Nico dropped his gym bag, aiming for casual. "I worked out, Jamie. It releases tension."

"Uh-huh." Jamie looked delighted. He pointed his spoon at Nico. "You look like you got a deep tissue massage from a cloud." He paused, his eyes widening with genuine delight. "Or a gym bunny. Did you hook up at the gym again?"

Nico almost choked. "I—what? No."

"You totally did!" Jamie crowed, abandoning the cereal on the counter to get closer to Nico. The spoon fell on the floor with a loud rattle. "I knew it! You have that look. The 'Father, I have sinned and I'm ready to do it again' look."

Nico sighed, realizing defeat was inevitable. He took a drink of water, fighting a small, private smile. "Fine, yeah… The shower was fun today."

"I'm so proud of you!" Jamie commented. "Was he hot?"

Nico paused. He thought about the sharp jawline, the broad shoulders, the bulging veins. "He was... so very hot."

"Yes!" Jamie punched the air and grabbed his phone. "What's his name? Handle? I need pics. Can we stalk him online?"

"I don't even know his name," Nico said. "It was just… a hook up. A hot one."

Jamie’s face fell, but only for a second before he shrugged. "Oh. Well. Still, a win's a win, right?"

"I guess," Nico said quietly.

But as the adrenaline faded, it left a hollow little space behind. It was only heat. Body contact. There was no connection, no quiet understanding, no real tenderness.

"I'm gonna crash," Nico said.

Jamie looked up from his phone. "Already?"

"Yeah. Long day." Nico paused at the doorway to his bedroom. "And I have the shelter tomorrow after work."

Jamie’s eyebrows shot up. "Ah. The shelter. Wait, what does this mean for the shelter guy? Is his era already over? Are you going back to being Naughty Nico?"

Nico rolled his eyes, though he couldn't help a small chuckle. "Today was just cardio, Jamie. And I've only met Ben once… chill. Seriously."

Jamie snorted, already reaching for his phone again. "Whatever makes you happy, I guess."

"Goodnight, Jamie."

"Night, slut!"

In the quiet of his room, Nico lay on his back and stared at the ceiling. The day replayed in fragments: brunch with the others, the gym, the foggy blur of the shower, and, cutting through all of it, the memory of sunlight on ginger hair.

Tomorrow, there would be cats. And Ben.