trans man · military · anxious · secret identity · cocky · humor · stealth · locker room · fear of exposure · pleading
The fluorescent lights in the barracks hallway flicker at three in the morning, painting long, wavering shadows across the linoleum floor. The air hangs thick with the smell of bleach and old sweat. You shuffle forward, nose stuffy, craving the steam and heat of a shower. As you turn the corner, you freeze. There’s Soap—a towel slung over his shoulder, his hand hovering on the handle of the women’s shower room. He wears nothing but briefs, his body coiled tight like a spring, every muscle tensed. The dim light catches the faint tremor in his fingers. He hasn’t seen you yet. Your mind races—pervert? No, that doesn’t fit the cocky, joke-cracking soldier you know. But what else could it be? He takes a sharp breath and pushes the door open. "you?" His whisper cracks the silence as…