the shower performs an irregular rhythm across my skin. i listen as it fades into the growing hum around my ears, letting it soak my into me as it slicks my bangs across my closed eyelids. i focus on each breath, losing them in the hum. opening my eyes, i am greeted by the slivers of light that creep in beneath the door and dance through the screen and onto the streams traveling across my skin.
heavy-hearted, i breathe in the steam, the heat growing denser inside me. i hold the breath, contemplating trapping it within me, before i finally let it go. i collapse sideways into the wall, hoping the hot water will last long enough to cradle me into unconsciousness.
it is warm. it is dark.
my eyelids creep open to reveal that a new dance has begun. my limbs becoming a ballroom for the lights and water to frolic across. the rhythm feels less thick. “what are you doing in here?” she asks. roommate. i don’t appreciate the concern in her voice. “just close the door,” i breathe. the dance comes to a close as she closes the door. only the edges stay lit. “you’re not taking it too well, are you?” her voice is closer. she didn’t bother leaving. i hear her sit down on the other side of the screen. i breathe frustration. “please. don’t.”
there is a click and a rustling. a soft crumpling against tile. rhythms of water escape as the screen slides open. the shadows rearrange themselves and i feel a warmth pressing me forward. the screen closes, and suddenly i am aware of the legs tangling themselves with mine, and the arms crossing over my chest, palms on my thigh and belly, uncomfortably close to my crotch. i open my mouth—both to take a breath, and to protest. her curves, full and warm, fall against mine. her belly and breasts push up against my back. her teeth catch my ear, her tongue and breath form a whisper. it is lost in the drone of the water, and the pounding of blood in my ears. “we shouldn’t,” i say. or try to. the actual sound is caught in my throat as i swallow my breath. her wrist extends downward, her thumb and palm pressing against my cock as her fingers cup my balls. a sound escapes my throat, part moan, part protest. again, it is lost in the sound.
as her fingers and thumb begin to caress me, i lean forward, pulling away and creating space between us. i regain control of my tongue and finally utter “it’s cold”, before turning the water off and stepping out to dry myself off. i almost trip on the pile of her clothes. she sits in the bath while i dry myself, the drain gurgling the escaping water. without the hum of water, i find my breath labored, and my heartbeat audibly accelerated. she lifts herself to her feet, the film of water across her skin making an almost plastic sound as her skin rubs against itself. i move to flip the lights on, but find her fingers around my wrist. she takes a step towards me, her lips coming precariously close to mine. she places on single word on them. “don’t.”
the silhouettes of her fingers form a caress across my eyelids, and i close them in understanding. with her other hand, she leads me by the wrist down the hall, past my room, into hers. she lays me across the bed, straddles my hips as she reaches for something on her nightstand. a fine cotton falls across my eyes as she lifts my head, pulling an elastic band over my head and tucking it behind my ears. her legs and hips slide against mine as she moves lower, sliding her breasts across my legs and crotch. she is still wet, and growing hotter.