The "Free Hugs" Pipe

The sign was dingy. Scribbled on cardboard, jammed onto some long-abandoned nail, reading “FREE HUGS!” with an arrow pointing to the big drainage pipe.

The "Free Hugs" Pipe
Photo by Fabian Jung / Unsplash

20250617

Prompt from PrideOnThePage

The sign was dingy. Scribbled on cardboard, jammed onto some long-abandoned nail, reading “FREE HUGS!” with an arrow pointing to the big drainage pipe.
Now, I’m not stupid. I walked past that spot daily for months before I even peeped inside. I was curious why someone kept putting signs up. Because they never lasted long, ruined by the weather, yet there was always one there.
Besides, that day I’d just had yet another cuddle buddy turn… pushy. So I was shaky, teary, and really, really needed a hug. Pity there was nobody nearby I could trust for it.
The sign caught my eye. “Free hugs!”
I stood there for a while. Examining the pipe in the dim evening light.
Obviously it was a trap. Or a prank, or something. Something nasty. And I’d just had my fill of being lured into a vulnerable moment so someone could try and take from me.
Still, something made me fish out my phone and shine light down the tunnel.
“AIHEE!”
What was that thing?? All I saw was a flash of many eyes and a dark blur scurrying away. I dashed home and locked everything tight.
The scream haunted me. At first frightening, but as the hours ticked on I felt… guilty. Whatever that was, it’d sounded as startled as me.
So a few days later I was back. Peering into the pipe again.
This time I called “Hello?”
The voice that echoed back was… lilting. Squirmy. Eager. “Friend want hug?”
I folded my arms. “What’re you doing under there?”
“Giving hugs!”
My squint clearly conveyed my scepticism, because the voice amended in a more subdued tone “Offering hugs.”
“Uh-huh. Why are you lurking in a pipe offering hugs?”
“Friends scream if they see me.”
“…Mkay.” I fought the urge to get my light out again. “And why are you offering hugs?”
“I like hugs!”
Were those eyes glinting in the gloom?
“Annnd it’s definitely just a hug? You don’t… eat people?”
“EWWWW!”
I chose to be reassured rather than offended by the horror in its inhuman tone.
“Friend gross! Do you eat people? That is gross. You should eat food. Try pizza.”
“Uh, I don’t eat people, no, don’t worry.” Great, I’ve freaked out the pipe monster. “I eat food, like pizza.”
“Mmm… ok.” It sounded faintly dubious. But it still said “Friend want hug?”
“…S-sure?”
I kinda felt like I had to, having scared and then disgusted the poor thing. And, well… I did still really need a hug. Surely a monster at least wouldn’t try to grope me, right?
So I stepped into the pipe. Tense and on edge. And…
It was like being wrapped in a blanket. A heavy, warm, slightly damp musty blanket. I was engulfed… and no bad touch.
“Friiiiiend…” It purred in my ear.
Damn. How long had it been? I leant into the hug, squeezed the spongy mass tight, grateful tears welling up in my eyes.
“Friend.”
And that’s how I met my roommate.

Prompt was “Offer”.
[A lot of asexual people in my culture end up touch-starved because platonic touch is taboo amongst adults. And sadly it’s not unusual for someone to treat platonic touch as being a precursor to sexual touch, even if you explicitly explain that you don’t want sex.
The solution is befriending a cuddly monster who’ll live in your closet and split the food bill with you.]

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