Prompt: "Whenever Apollo needs to use the men's room, he always goes to a stall, never a urinal. In locker rooms he gets dressed under a towel and never uses communal showers. If a swimming pool has a swim briefs only/no board shorts policy, he doesn't swim there. People meanly assume he has a little penis and is self-conscious about it.
Wrong.
Little shota-esque Apollo has a huge penis. And he's really embarrassed by its freakish size."
Larger Than Expected
He had him trapped.
Apollo clutched at the towel secured around his waist, the tiles cool against his flushed skin where he pressed back against the locker room shower wall. The defense attorney inched slowly to his right only to have his shoulder bump into the corner. Yup, definitely trapped.
"Come on, Herr Forehead," his captor was laughing at him and his predicament. His mortified shame and the way his knees trembled like they might give out. "No need to be so dramatic, ja?"
No need, he says, but Apollo knows what will happen next. It is the reason why he couldn't join the swim team in college. It kept him off the wrestling team in highschool. He knows now that, despite being after-hours, he should not have come in here. He should not have taken off his clothes to rinse the mud from his suit. He should have locked the damn door.
"This. . ." his throat closes around the word, chokes it into a pathetic caricature of his normal voice. Apollo swallows hard and tightens his grip on the top of the towel. "Th-th-th-this is h-ha-. . .ha-harassment."
Prosecutor Gavin chuckled, placing his hands on his hip and leaning forward into Apollo's personal space with that obnoxiously beaming grin of his. He gave a gentle, damning command: "Drop it."
"I will sue you, Gavin."
"I'll be sure to clear time in my busy schedule for the summons. Now drop it."
"N-no!"
The prosecutor was starting to get annoyed. He reached for towel. Apollo swatted the first attempt away, but there was a second. Then a third. By the fourth, he was starting to feel frantic. The bigger man lunged for him, their bodies slamming together for one brief moment before fingers scraped against Apollo's taut stomach, latching onto the towel.
His towel.
Apollo tried to keep his grip, but the blond was stronger. The fabric was ripped from his shaky hands and pale waist. He could feel the tears welling up in his eyes. He tried to turn his body away, to hide himself and his strange abnormality. But Gavin tossed the towel aside and grabbed Apollo by the shoulders, forcing his back against the wall.
Oh, God. . . His hands weren't big enough. He couldn't cover himself. A whimper caught in his throat, tried to claw its way out between clenched teeth. He squeezed his eyes shut.
A low whistle caught his attention. Apollo opened one eye tentatively.
Klavier Gavin was staring, his mouth slightly ajar.
"Mein Gott. You're. . ."
"D-don't look at me like that!"
There was a long pause between them, interrupted only by Apollo's sniffling.
"You're uncircumcised."
"Brilliant observation, asshole. Give me my towel back."
"How do you even have sex with that thing?!"
"Stop staring at me!"
But it was the last question that drove him over the edge:
"Can. . .can I touch it?"
Apollo punched the prosecutor in the mouth.