For Want of a Towel

Posted on Sat Aug 14th, 2021 @ 1:59am by Lieutenant Irynya & Ensign Noah Balsam
Edited on on Mon Dec 27th, 2021 @ 5:16pm

Mission: The Place of Skulls
Location: Cabin 502; Deck 5
Timeline: Mission Day 8 at 0750

Swish.

The dark cadet blues of Cabin 502’s front doors opened. Long, skinny legs with high socks and shorts that didn’t quite cross halfway down as-long, milky white thighs, carried the rest of Noah Balsam inside. He was panting, his apple-cherubic face aglow in sweat.

The engineer looked at his chrono and tapped it off, and then pulled his earbuds out of his ears. He pocketed them. “Index.” He said through breathy recovery. Noah hopped on one leg long enough to take off a shoe, but it looked like a baby giraffe trying to stand up. Shoe off, he did the same with the other- but this time he braced a hand against the bulkhead.

“Review my schedule,” he said, looking on through tired eyes. They focused on the bald porcelain femininity of the Index.

“0800, Alpha Shift. 0815 Level Two Diagnostic on Kernel Post-Reboot Operations. 0940 Level Two Diagnostic on Alpha and Alpha Recursive Bioneural Pathways. 102-”

“Pause playback.” Noah waved. “I’ll check later,” he murmured as he looked at the time. He had ten minutes to get to his shift- and he needed a sonic shower. When the Index didn’t disappear, Noah raised hsi brows. “Oh uh, close Index.”

The holographic being fizzled away. Noah, with a flourish of lankiness, got his t-shirt off his body. He bunched it up and- like such a boy- tossed it on the public terminal desk. He headed torward the bathroom, only stopping to begin his hop dance to take off his socks. The doors hissed behind him.

In the adjacent bedroom, Irynya had taken to swearing.

“Shit,” she spat. “Shit shit shit.”

She perched on the edge of her bed, fitted SOJO undershirt pulled up at an awkward angle, showing off more midriff than she was sure Sheldon would have appreciated had he not already been on his duty rotation. Fitted shirts were not kind to curvy hips, so she tugged, urgently, to get it back in place.

“Computer, time,” she spoke into the air, pulling open her closet with two hands as if doing so would magically place everything she needed in her arms.
The disembodied neutral voice of the computer informed her that it was 0750.

“Shiiiit,” she said again, reaching into the closet for the first sports bra and pair of underwear she could find before hurrying out the door of her bedroom and taking a sharp right on her way to the bathroom.

The bathroom fizzed open to…

Noah. Front and center of one of the vanities and mirrors.

Long fingers cupping a silver face towel contours his face, the metallic sheen of it jutted out by his nose. Lean frailty was laid bare: wiry muscles, ripples of ribs, pecs with a barely-existent rise. As long-legged as he seemed.

And he’d… discarded his shorts. And that which made him of the masculine gland was… there. Dangling under a crown of ample black curls like his head. it seemed to follow the rest of Noah’s anatomical motif: somehow it was odd on such a slender body.

“Hello?” Noah said muffled in the towel. He lowered it. Eyes rounded. “Whoa, shit! I’m-I’m-I’m s-sorry!” Noah’s voice cracked while he crumpled to cover himself- which took two hands. He dropped his face towel. With a lip bite he scooped down to pick it up and dropped it over his privates while he knelt in a hunch to cover, “S-sorry, I’m sorry…”

Irynya had not been paying any attention to what was in front of her when she hurried into the bathroom, black undergarments clutched in her hands and undershirt riding up onto her hips uncomfortably again--a several inches wide band of midriff and the top of her underwear showing where her sleep shorts sat low on her hips..

“Shit!” The word seemed to be doing extra work for her that morning. She took in pale skin, long skinny limbs, a small silver towel, and all of Noah’s endowments in one very quick glance, before looking straight up at the ceiling.

“Oh my goodness, Noah,” she said, the surprise of finding her youngest roommate naked at the mirror making her voice quaver just a touch. “I am so sorry.”

For a split second she considered just exiting the room, going back to her bedroom, and pulling her duty uniform on over the prior day’s sweat, but in the end couldn’t do it.

Still staring at the ceiling, she mumbled, “I… umm… is one of the showers free?”

In the flurry, Noah had recoiled. He didn’t know how he’d gotten there. But the cold metal of the bulkhead pressed against his buttcheeks and he was still bent, clutching the towel over himself.

His face was contorted with either anguish or pain, an eye winced. It was hard to tell which emotion it was. But he was a bright pink across his cheeks and chest. And, like Irynya, he’d thrown his gaze upward. “Umm…”

He tilted his head with a swallow. He was trying to look over and around, “Y-yes. Did you need…” He stopped himself. Why else would she ask? “I’ll be out in… in less than, uh, ten?”

Irynya chuckled nervously, and instantly felt a blush run down her neck. Whatever the circumstance might be, she, herself, didn’t have any problems sharing the room, she just hated accidentally sneaking up on him. “There’s… two showers?” she said, knowing full well that there were, but finding herself unable to make the statement without sounding like she was asking a question.

A neck spasm ran down her shoulder, her body somehow failing to understand the circumstance and kindly trying to remind her that looking at the ceiling at this angle was not the best for various nerve branches.

“I mean,” she tried again, “there are two showers.” Her voice sounded weirdly rough making her blush more deeply. And damn, did he even know how well-formed he was? There was no unseeing what she’d seen and apparently her brain had decided to take a holiday from the fight or flight adrenaline to commentate on the sight in the most inappropriate timing ever.

“I think we can probably… both… I mean… in separate showers, but… that’s kind of the point of two,” she stammered.

“Op-operationally there’s, um, two,” Noah confirmed with another glance. “Um.” He squinted his eyes. He really needed to itch his nose. “What’s the protocol?”

“For using showers?” she asked, not understanding his question.

Noah nodded. “Right, right, right. What’s the protocol? Um. You’re, uh, a Luh-Lieutenant, I’m not. You’re a woman. I’m not.” He swallowed. “Ob-obviously… sorry again...”

It was the worst possible time, and yet she really couldn’t help it. The circumstance was just too ridiculous not to. And so, despite all of her better judgment, she giggled, one hand immediately flying to her mouth, which made her look down, eyes catching another full shot of pale skin, this time with the silver face cloth acting as a poor substitute for underwear. She realized her mistake as fast as it happened and snapped her chin back up. Were it possible, her gaze would have burned a hole in the ceiling. Her neck twinged in complaint.

“I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you,” she tried, “It’s just… this is about the single most…” she giggled again.

“I’m pretty sure the protocol when there are two people, regardless of rank or gender, and two stalls, is for whichever one is wearing the least clothing to pick a stall so the other one can stop staring at the ceiling.”

Her eyes were dancing now, amusement warring with the underlying guiltier tone of putting Noah in this predicament.

“G-good protocol.” Noah swallowed down his throat. He pointed to one of the stalls with his wiry arms, “I’ll go that way.” And his statue-still legs swayed into a crab walk. He kept his butt to the wall as he rounded the corner. His eyes dropped- he was blushing like a beet, his curls a wet tangle from when he must have been washing his face.

“Hi,” sort of dribbled, ghost-like, out of his mouth when he dashed a glance at her to get his bearings. He pushed off the wall and started to back up toward the stall. His long feet wobbled, seeking out the lip of the sonic shower. And he stepped over it.

He closed the glass door, a frosted blue front that looked like falling rain. “OK, clear.” Noah’s voice was resonant in the cylinder of safety he was in.

“Hi,” she replied automatically, seeming to be addressing the ceiling as she spoke rather than the pale lanky man in front of her. His all-clear was lightly muffled, but audible. Letting out a long low breath, she returned her head to its regularly scheduled angle and tilted from side to side trying to work the kink out.

Not waiting another moment she made her way to the open stall, the blue frosted glass locking in place with a minuscule click. For a brief moment she put her head against the stall wall, her heart raced and she could feel the sudden adrenaline decline making her shaky.

The sound of the shower starting up next door prompted her into motion, pulling t-shirt, shorts, and underwear off in three seamless motions, tossing each over the edge of the shower door. She tucked the underwear and bra she had brought with her onto a ledge then manipulated the controls to start the shower.

After a quiet moment, a thought occurred to her. “So… umm…” she called over the wall of the shower, “Are we about to spend the rest of our lives as roommates never making eye contact again or are we good?”

There was a pause, the simple sound of warbling sonic waves and water. “I was just surprised… I didn’t want to embarrass you… or anyone.” Noah said. “I’m fine. If-if you’re fine.”

She thought about that a moment, not sure she believed him fully. “I mean… yeah…” she added. “I’m good.”

There was another particularly long silence, her heart returning back to its normal pace with the resumption of the normal routines of washing, lathering, and working the oils out of her hair

“Noah?” she asked as if checking to be sure he was still there even though he was definitely still there.

“Ye-yeah everything OK?” His respectful voice lilted up like a question. He’d been in quiet readjustment, the sound and water pelting across his back and vibrating through him. He rallied moments before and started to wash his hair.

“Yeah,” she said, her voice oddly relieved. She paused again, considering her words. “Is it ok if I make an… I guess an... observation? As a friend?” The idea tickling at the back of her head had gone from barely mixed to at least partly baked, but there was still plenty of opportunity for it to come off incorrectly.

There was a pregnant pause. Was he nibbling his lip, nervous, anxious? With a sputter sound and the cascade of water hitting the floor, in reality it might have just been him wetting his head. He sputtered. “Sure. Um. OK?” He said, his voice that muffled sound.

Irynya was used to making observations like this to a person’s face where she could gauge a reaction and use body language to support the way in which she wanted something to come off. She thought a moment, gathering words together as best she could.

“So…” she started, then stopped. False start. She put a slick palm to her forehead.

“So,” she started again, trying to sound more relaxed, “I’ve noticed that sometimes you carry yourself like you’re trying…” she paused again. “... not to be seen, I guess.” She rubbed the back of her neck with a wet hand, the other twisting her long hair up into a knot on the top of her head. “Like maybe you’re not so comfortable in your own skin.”

Here was the moment. She could still abort.

But of course, she didn’t.

“I mean, I could be off base here, but you really shouldn’t. You’ve... really got nothing to be ashamed of.” An unfortunately timed flash of memory from a few moments before shot across her vision turning her a bright shade of red, thankfully where no one else could see her.

“What I mean,” she pressed on, “is you’re allowed to take up space. Umm… there’s no one here who is going to look at you and think you should be less comfortable in your own skin.”

Noah chewed his lip around a smile. “I don’t take up much space…” he countered. “At least… w-wide. Wise. Width-wise.”

From her own shower, Irynya laughed, the sound coming out a little bit like a snort.

“I get what you’re saying…” he said with something almost somber. “But… when people like me walk in to Starfleet Academy… and you see the Security people and the Flight Control people. The future Commanders.”

Noah finally scratched his cheek, and studied his thumbnail. “They start hooking up with each other and...and… doing natural things. And some of us realize we were-were never really raised around people like that. We aren’t suave or… good at talking about social things.” he smiled and looked at the wall between them, “Believe me, I-I’ve seen people’s eyes glaze over when I start talking about code.”

“You do realize the issue there is the content of the message, not the person delivering it, right?” she said wryly before remembering that he couldn’t see her and might not realize she was teasing. “Sorry,” she added hastily. “What I mean is that whether or not you are participating in those… natural things…” she said using his term, “... has zero to do with your physique. And possibly more to do with how confident you are. I’ve already seen you do things with holographics that I’m confident the next commanders of the day would beg, borrow, and steal to be able to do. Just…” she trailed off, “I guess just take that for what it’s worth. You’re not an unattractive guy and there’s no reason to hide that.”

“Thanks… it’s not that I feel ugly. I just know I’m… I’m different. I-I have things I hope people like.” Noah understood she was trying to help. She was a positive person.

She finished rinsing soap and conditioner from her hair, letting the mixture of water and sound press the water out through her tresses while she desperately hoped he took her point without completely misunderstanding or misallocating her meaning. Carefully, she manipulated the controls to turn off the shower.

Noah too finished, by washing the parts of him that he normally didn’t like to be on display. First front, then back. “I-I appreciate what you’re saying. If… heh… I was even shyer when I first came to, um, Earth. I was the Waterboy.”

She was listening to what he was saying, and had stepped into her underwear then, pulling her bra over her head in a two-armed sort of shimmy, before gripping the bottom and tucking everything into an appropriate place. She listened a moment, still hearing the shower running and thinking she may have a moment to steal out and throw the shorts she’d tossed out of the space back on before he got out.

Her hand brushed the door release… and nothing happened. She had stopped listening now, turning to look at the release to see if maybe she’d missed it somehow. Tapping lightly she tried again, and again nothing happened.

“Umm…. Noah?” she called feeling a blush of embarrassment creep up the back of her neck.

“Yeah?” he sputtered and then the sound of his shower deactivating with a sudden cease of the ebbing and dribbling.

She could feel a teeny bit of panic taking root in the pit of her stomach as she tried the door one more time, hoping she could just brush it off and they could be on their way.

Nothing.

“Uhh….” she said, the embarrassment that had crept up her neck made its way into her voice. “I think the door stopped working.”

“The door, you mean your stall door?” Noah asked. He paused. “W-wait you’re stuh….” he trailed off. In private Noah’s mouth tightened and he squinted. “Dammit. Um. I-I remember seeing an order to fix some sonic showers… when-when we were coming to Risa. And…”

The tiny pit of panic expanded into a hole… one she now desperately wished she could crawl into. Naked roommates, she could handle, being helpless in a small space… less so.

“Umm… do,” she drew out the o as she spoke, “you mind maybe… umm… getting help?”

She took a breath in through her nose and let it back out through her mouth slowly, closing her eyes.

There was the sound of unlatching. And behind the blue rain-glass, Noah’s nudity was out. His distorted front visage came up to the door. The door rattled and he swayed, his half-distorted body shifting. He planted his shoulder to the door and gave it a push to see if it wasn't seating right. But he tugged and it didn’t work.

“Just, um, stay-stay there. I’ll go get my toolkit. OK?” He hovered, his head down. He found himself staring at obscured legs.

Irynya, having a working image of Noah’s figure to construct from, choked back a panicked laugh when he approached her door. The distortion may have obscured the obvious features, but there was still no doubt of his figure--a darker patch of Noah making itself something of an obvious bullseye.

Ten minutes ago she might have cracked a joke, but now she wasn’t sure if she should laugh or cry. Instead, she resumed her earlier position of staring awkwardly at the ceiling.

“Ok,” she called, her voice more of a waver than she would have liked. “And maybe… umm… put on some pants?”

Noah froze, the rictus of concern etching his face. “Y-yes.” His shadow bolted to the sound of running footfalls. The door of the bathroom hissed open and swished closed. And there was an eerie silence.

“Door,” she whispered quietly to herself, touching it as she did. “Shower,” she made herself look around. “Hands…” she held them up in front of her face. “Umm… shelf?” she asked the quiet, running a finger over the spot where she had left her undergarments.

She gave up, her eyes shutting as she placed the bottom of her palms against her eyes. She. Was. Not. Going. To. Cry.

Swish. Hiss. The doors were open again. A slender frame appeared. And the sound was something mechanical- something un-slotted with a scrape of metal-to-metal. “Just a second,” he said, “I’ll have you out in a second.” He breathed and the obscured figure run fingers in his wet hair. “Can-can you step back a bit, Iry? Please.”

She took a hesitant step away from the door and then another, forcing herself to not think about the ridiculous idea that she might never leave the shower. Realizing he couldn’t see her well she added, “O...okay.”

There was a new warble- an oscillation. And from behind the glass, there was an ebbing blue light. There was finally a click- a snap-like sound. And Noah’s silhouette stepped away, But he was back. “It-it’s open… umm… I-I have a towel? If you want one?”

She nodded at no one, a strangled sob escaping her before she hurried out of the small space, not taking the unlikely chance that the door might lock her in again.

She whirled toward Noah, taking the proffered towel shakily and wrapping it around her shoulders, her own now hunching inward as if she could make herself disappear under the weight of her embarrassment.

“Thank you,” she whispered, staring at his feet, weirdly appreciative of the shorts he had donned on his way out to get his toolkit.

Noah was back to looking at the ceiling and, once the towel was out of his hands, he crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re welcome…” In a moment, he raised his hands to shield his eyes, “I’ll-I’ll give you the space and change in my room.”

She nodded her understanding, appreciation for his help and his understanding welling up a bit where the panic had burrowed in.

As he turned to go, she looked up, noticing he was still deliberately avoiding looking at her. “Seriously, thanks.” She tried to effuse every ounce of normal, Irynya-style, confidence she could into that word, but still came up short.

“You’re welcome,” Noah said before the doors swished behind him. Again, the Bathroom was cloaked in silence. From the safety of his room, the first thing he did was assure that he’d disabled the sonic shower fully, until he could fix it.

A Post By:

Lieutenant JG Irynya
Assistant Chief Flight Controller

Cadet Noah Hyman Balsam III
Systems Specialist