|Butts. I dare you to write something on butts.|
The locker rooms on Venators were steamy places with the freshers always running as well as all the faucets. At any given time, there were at least five clones in any of the rooms, preparing for the next mission or cleaning up from their previous ones. This also meant that privacy was gone because, since they were all clones, why did they need privacy? They had the same body and same features so it was all the same.
The commandos, however, were stronger and more built than regular frontline troops that were the primary residents of the Venators. After one of their missions, Delta Squad strolled into the locker room, each member putting their gear into a locker for safe keeping and protection from the steam that would likely cause further problems than what they already had.
With nothing on but a grin, they walked into the showers, turning all of the shower heads on full blast, steaming up the place. The front lines couldn’t help but stare at times, having never seen a commando in person before. The Deltas were aware of their presence and with a silent nod, Boss told the rest of the squad to be ready to start the show.
Once they were cleaned up, they each grabbed a towel but didn’t tie it around their waist. Instead, they threw them over their shoulders and strutted out, making sure to draw attention to their finely-toned shebs. Boss, catching a few of the glances, made quick comparisons between himself and the others and realized that proficiency in weapons wasn’t the only thing the commandos had better than the other clones.
They may have been asses at times, but at least they had damn fine asses.