The locker room and showers, made out of nothing but metal and tile, never seemed to hold any heat, and the cold air brought out goosebumps all over Sly's pale skin. He kept his eyes on the curtained shower entrance, waiting for Clear to burst in and aim a punch at his face, but nothing happened. Anger Sly would have understood, but there was only silence, followed by a comment on the spectators. Clear's tone was casual, conversational. Well, maybe the fucking bucket hadn't hit him after all.
Sly hated this. He had wanted to provoke Clear, goad him into a response that made sense, but now Sly was starting to feel like a toddler throwing a tantrum, throwing things and yelling while the android continued to speak calmly from just outside the door. When he thought about it a little deeper, he was even more confused. Clear had been the one to start this, after all, so why should Sly be feeling like the sore loser? He wanted to shower, get a doctor to look at his head, and then sleep for a week. Those were simple needs. Why was this turning out so fucking complicated?
"That's because they're not friendly," he said, stepping back into the hot stream of water. "We're just dogs to them. We're entertaining, and they don't have to care if we get fucked up. It's...freeing, really. Hurting and killing each other in front of a crowd that's screaming for your blood or theirs...."
He made the mistake of turning his back on the doorway, putting one hand on the slick, dirty tile of the shower wall and leaning forward, pressing his other hand against his face. The sharp pains had dissolved into an all-consuming, dull throb. It hurt so bad that his stomach was tightening up in protest, though the threat of vomiting wasn't very great on account of Sly's empty stomach. He never ate right before a fight. Reaching up, he turned off the shower with a screech of rusty metal, just in time to catch the last sentence from Clear--"Was losing humiliating?"
Sly spun around. Clear was standing inside the shower, back pressed to the tile, his gaze piercing straight through the vulnerable, naked body before him. "Get out," Sly hissed, leaning more fully against the wall and turning to face Clear. The water dripping off of his hair was turning cold, making him shiver, and there was a black static growing at the corner of his vision. He needed to ditch this guy before he passed out.
