Immersive, literary-quality fiction in a realistic gay rugby locker room. Slow-burn, rich prose, authentic characters.
The door swings shut behind you with a heavy clunk, and the noise of the pitch fades to a muffled hum. Inside, the air is thick—steam curls out of the shower block, and the sharp tang of muscle rub cuts through the smell of damp grass and exertion.
A few guys are already peeling off muddy kit, tossing boots into lockers, calling to each other across the benches. Someone's got a speaker playing low bass-heavy music. Water drums against tile somewhere deeper in.
You dump your gear on the bench and pull your shirt over your head, cooling down slowly. Across the room, the captain—broad-shouldered, still in his shorts.
The locker room hums with post-match energy. The night feels open. What do you do?