Golden

by Sean Michael

  Heat poured over his fingers. He groaned, the scent of Justin’s need fucking arousing. He thrust against Justin, humping one of those strong thighs.

  “Fuck. Fuck!” With that cry, Chris came, spunk pouring out over Justin’s skin.

  His boy was sobbing, holding on to him, trembling hard. He collapsed next to Justin and drew his boy into his arms, supporting and loving him. The storm was fast, and soon he had an exhausted boy again. He shook his head. Justin had always needed structure. Now his boy was going to get it again, was going to thrive.

  He pressed a kiss to the corner of Justin’s right eye. “Nap, boy.”

  “Uh-huh. My head hurts, Coach.” Justin sighed, then melted. “Love you.”

  The snores started.

  Chris kissed Justin’s forehead and held on to his boy as he slept, so in love it hurt.

  Thank God—Justin had come back to him.

  Chapter Seven

  JUSTIN WOKE to the smell of eggs and grapefruit juice and toast, and for a second he was confused. That was the smell of every training morning.

  “Hey, Justin. You coming back to the land of the living?” Coach stood at the doorway, tray in his hand, two plates on it. “Don’t get used to the breakfast-in-bed service, though.”

  “I…. What time is it?” It had to be late afternoon from the look of the sun outside the window.

  “About two. I figured you needed the sleep.” Coach put the tray on the bed, two plates full of eggs and toast there, along with thin slices of ham and two glasses of juice.

  “Are we going to the pool?” He sat up, hissing as the sheet slid down his nipples.

  Coach’s eyes went to his chest, a soft moan sounding. “Yeah. After ‘breakfast.’”

  “It looks good.” He stared at his chest, his nipples dark, swollen, sensitive. God.

  “They’re stunning.” Coach’s fingers slid around but didn’t touch his nipples. “We’ll always keep them like this.”

  “What?” His cock went hard, and he wriggled, groaned.

  “I think you heard me. These are going to be kept just like this: pretty and red and swollen.”

  Justin shook his head. “I can’t. I…. The eggs look good.”

  Coach chuckled and handed him a fork. “Eat, lover.”

  “Thanks.” He was ravenous and he had missed Chris’s eggs, so he ate heartily, feeling more able to cope when his plate was cleaned than he had in months.

  Coach ate more slowly, and Justin could feel him watching, smiling.

  “You make the best eggs.”

  Coach grinned at him. “You’ve always been the only one who thinks I can cook anything.”

  He shrugged. “I like your eggs.”

  Coach leaned in and took a kiss. Justin kissed his lover, his coach, his oldest friend, right back. Moaning, Coach cupped his jaw, and the kiss went on for a long time before Coach slowly backed off. Justin blinked, stared, hands itching to slide over the broad shoulders, the strong pecs. He simply licked his lips, though, not sure what the plan was.

  “Okay. If you’re done eating, we’ll go hit the pool. I want you to have a chance to get a feel for the water before you start helping me out with the kids.”

  “I don’t really swim anymore.” He nodded, though, got their plates.

  “That’s just crazy.” Coach went through his drawers and snagged a couple pair of swimming trunks. He offered one to Justin. “I’ll trade you for the dishes.”

  “I felt bad about it.” Justin took the suit. “Do you want to wear them or bring them?”

  “We can change at the pool.”

  “’Kay.” He got his slacks on. “Do you have a T-shirt I can borrow?”

  “Yep. First drawer. Take whichever one you like. I’ll be right back.” Coach slipped out with their dishes.

  “Thanks.” Justin picked a T-shirt, hissing as he yanked it over his sensitive nipples.

  The shirt smelled like Coach, though. He held the bottom to his face, breathing Coach in.

  “You find a T-shirt okay?” Coach’s voice faded away.

  He glanced up, cheeks burning. “Uh-huh.”

  Coach smiled at him and came over, kissed him softly. Justin let himself lean and soak up the sure, strong presence.

  “Fuck, I’ve missed you.” Coach leaned their foreheads together.

  “Yeah. Yeah, Coach. So much.” He met those warm brown eyes. “So much.”

  Coach gazed at him for a long moment, holding him in that gaze as surely as in those arms. “Come on, Just. The water is calling for you.”

  “Is it? Are you sure?” He had to grin, though. He did love the water.

  “Absolutely sure. You think it doesn’t miss you as much as you miss it?” Coach led them down the hall and into the garage, stopping for them to slip on sandals.

  “You have my old shoes?” God, they felt so normal.

  Coach shrugged. “They were in my bag when we got home from the Olympics.”

  “I love these.” He wiggled his toes. “Man, I am throwing these slacks away.” Stupid work pants.

  “Smart move. We can go pick up your clothes after the pool.” Coach clicked his key fob to unlock the car doors.

  “My roommate’s going to be so pissed.”

  “Tell him you’ll pay him a month’s rent in lieu of notice. I’m sure it’ll soothe the sting.”

  “I hope so.” He wasn’t 100 percent sure he cared.

  It didn’t take long to get to the pool, and as soon as Justin stepped out of the car, the smell hit him. He stopped, just a little wigged-out, a little freaked. Then Coach’s hand slid along his spine and settled in the small of his back. “You belong here, Justin. Never forget that.”

  “I used to. Is it so weird for everyone?”

  “I don’t know, Justin. You’re my only Olympian.” That hand put some pressure right there above his ass. “Come on. Once you’re in the water, it’ll feel like coming home.”

  “Promise?”

  “I do.” God, Coach’s confidence was sexy. That brought him right home too.

  The pool was private, beautiful, and they were on their own. Justin was stripping down, moving into his suit without even thinking, his brain on autopilot. When he was done, he glanced up to find Coach watching him—he smiled, nodded, and pointed at the water.

  Justin’s body knew this—like he knew how to breathe, how to sleep. He stood at the edge and dived in.

  WATCHING JUSTIN in the water was still one of the most beautiful things Chris had ever seen. He didn’t even bother changing into his own suit to join Justin, preferring instead to sit on the bleachers and watch. Every now and then he’d yell at Justin to stop favoring his left arm or to kick straighter, but on the whole, muscle memory did its thing, and Justin flew through the water like he was born for it.

  Which, of course, Justin was. He needed to swim. Needed this. Maybe even more than the rules and the discipline and the order. Of course, put them all together and Justin would be a happy camper.

  Chris glanced at the clock at the end of the pool. An hour had passed, and Justin hadn’t been working out. His swimmer would be sore tomorrow if he wasn’t careful. He whistled five times, counting on that to be ingrained as well.

  Sure as life, Justin’s head popped up at the edge of the pool. “Coach?”

  It gave him a hard-on.

  “That’s it for today. You don’t want to be too sore to swim tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?” His boy nodded, hauled himself up, breathing hard. “Okay, Coach.”

  Look at that. Just the promise of more swimming had Justin looking forward to tomorrow. His lover truly was made for this.

  He tossed Justin a towel. “You can get a shower when we get home.” They could take one together.

  “Okay.” Justin’s hands were shaking a little. “Are we going to get my clothes?”

  “Yes, we are. You have anything else you need?” If they could get everything in one trip….

  “I don’t have a lot of shit. My me
dals, my TV, Xbox. Laptop.”

  “We should be able to fit that in the car. Come on.” Once Justin had tugged on his T-shirt and changed out his trunks for his slacks, Chris put an arm around his boy and led Justin back out to the car.

  He could feel Justin’s muscles jerking and rolling, twitching.

  “I’ll give you a rubdown when we get home. Buy you an orange juice on the way out too.” He led the way, stopping in the lobby for juice out of the vending machine.

  “You don’t have to. I mean, I’m not your swimmer anymore.”

  “You’re my assistant coach now.” He handed over the juice. “And my lover. It’s my job to take care of you.”

  “I don’t know if I’d be a good coach.”

  “Assistant coach.” Chris winked at him. “And you’ll be great. The kids’ll just be happy having you in the pool with them.”

  Justin shrugged, smiled. “We’ll see.”

  “Yeah, we will.”

  They got back into the car, and Chris headed for Justin’s old apartment. “How’d the water feel?”

  “Good. Real good.” Justin leaned back, eyes closed. “Familiar. I don’t know.”

  “You looked good.” For someone who hadn’t been swimming in four years, Justin had been amazing.

  “Thanks. It was a little weird, maybe.”

  “Weird? How so?” He would keep Justin talking about swimming. About the water.

  “I just haven’t, you know? I haven’t been in the water much. Not the pool at all.”

  “You belong there. Even if it’s just to do laps to work out. I have never seen anyone move in the water like you do.” He wasn’t blowing sunshine up his boy’s ass either. It was totally true.

  Chris hated that snort, that unhappy sound Justin answered him with. “I’m just me.”

  The words made him growl. “We should all be as ‘just you’ as you are.”

  Justin’s hand snuck over, touched his thigh, the tiniest, most gentle little caress. Chris shot Justin a glance and hummed softly. They were almost at Justin’s old place.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” Justin asked, voice quiet.

  “One hundred percent, Justin. I’ve never been more sure of anything.” He drove up into a visitor’s spot at the apartment complex and turned to his boy. “Never.”

  “Never.” Justin nodded. “Okay. I trust you.”

  “This is our lives—it’s too important to bullshit you about.”

  “Okay. Let’s go. I guess we need to do this.”

  “It’s a good thing, Justin.” Chris got out and followed Justin up the stairs. He wasn’t letting his boy change his mind.

  The apartment was a fucking nightmare: filthy and stinky, cheap furniture, and debris everywhere. Christ, was this how Justin had been living? It made him growl again, though he kept this one under his breath. “Your room?”

  “I’m at the end of the hall.” Justin picked through the mess and led Chris to a sight that was weirdly familiar. Justin’s bedroom was neat, simple, almost sterile.

  The gold medals were on the dresser, along with a TV, an Xbox, and a computer. Better. This was what his boy needed; the other rooms had to drive Justin crazy.

  “Okay. Backpacks? Suitcases? Boxes? Bags?”

  “I have a suitcase and my two big duffels.” Justin’s dresser was organized, one drawer filled with movies and magazines.

  Chris took another look around and nodded. “That just might do it.”

  “I don’t have a lot of stuff. I spend my cash on other stuff.”

  His eyebrows drew together. “What other stuff?”

  “Booze, mostly. Online video games.”

  “Well, you’re done with the booze.” Chris went to Justin’s closet and found the bags and the suitcase. He dragged them out and tossed them onto the bed.

  “I’m legal.” Justin packed quickly, socks and jeans and T-shirts.

  Chris chuckled. “That’s not the point.”

  “It’s not?” His boy looked so confused.

  “No. It’s not. You don’t need the booze.”

  “I just take the edge off.”

  “I have plenty of ways for you to take the edge off.” He went over to Justin and took his boy’s shoulders. “It’s a rule. No booze.”

  “A rule?”

  He’d already talked to Justin about rules, but he had a hunch they’d have to go over it again. And probably again and again. “Yes. A rule. You had them when you were my swimmer, and you’ll have them now. Now get back to packing.” He started throwing stuff into one of the duffel bags.

  “I…. Okay.” Justin unhooked his Xbox, TV, and DVD player. He was going to thrive with Chris, with order and rules and lots of love.

  Chris heard the door open, heard a girl giggling, laughing. “Sounds like your roommate’s home.”

  “Yeah.” Justin sighed. “I guess I should tell him.”

  “Let’s get the last of your stuff, and then we can tell him together. Sounds like he has some company to help soften the blow of losing a roommate.”

  “I guess so, yeah.” Justin sighed again, rubbed the back of his neck.

  “Hey.” Chris went over to Justin and took a hard kiss. “You’re doing the right thing for you.” He drew Justin in close, pressed their bodies together. “And for me. I am overjoyed that you’re coming home.”

  He loved that grin, the one that said he’d touched Justin’s soul.

  “Come on. We’re almost done.” Chris gave Justin another quick, hard kiss.

  “Uh-huh. I won’t miss this place.”

  “No, I imagine not.” Chris hated it, and he’d only been here five minutes. He could only guess that it had been one more thing Justin didn’t like about his life.

  They gathered the last of Justin’s things into the bags. It wouldn’t take more than two trips to get everything, including the TV, into the car. His boy hadn’t been living. He’d been… sticking around.

  Chris picked up Justin’s TV and one of the duffel bags and headed out, following his boy.

  There was a tall blond kissing a lovely girl—her bikini-clad body barely hidden. “Justin? Where you going, man?”

  Justin shrugged. “I’m moving out.”

  “Making a change for the better,” Chris put in.

  “Cool.” The guy didn’t seem that put out. “No offense, man, but you’ve stopped hanging out.”

  Chris let his eyebrows go up. “Was that a part of the lease agreement?”

  “Well, kinda. I mean, beer’s expensive.” God, this kid was a real treat.

  Justin rolled his eyes. “What do I owe you?”

  “So, what? You’re just going?”

  “That’s right, he’s just going.” Chris was not going to let this kid make Justin feel bad over leaving. There were a million kids this guy could find to share partying expenses with.

  “Dude, I need next month’s rent. That’s not cool.”

  “I’ll give it to you when I get my last paycheck.”

  The kid’s eyes went wide. “You got fired? Shit.”

  “Tell you what.” Chris reached into his pocket and took out his wallet, found one of the loose checks that he kept for just this kind of occasion. “Let me just pay you what Justin owes now.”

  Justin protested. “You can’t, Coach.”

  “Coach? You’re going back to swimming? Are you smoking dope?” This asshole was cruising for Chris to smash his face in.

  Justin stared. “No!”

  “Jesus Christ, just tell me how much Justin owes you and we’ll get out of your hair.” He shot Justin a look. “You and I can talk about how you’ll pay me back later.”

  The kid crossed his arms. “Six hundred will cover everything.”

  Justin groaned.

  “His half of the rent is six hundred a month? For this place? Really?”

  “Yep. Rent and utilities.” That was a hell of a belligerent look. Frankly, it would be worth it just to get his boy away from here.

  “
I’ll pay you, man, okay? I have the money.” Justin rolled his eyes.

  “You can pay me back, Justin.” Chris was insisting on this. He wrote out the check and passed it over to Justin’s roommate to fill in the To line. “This way you’re done here.”

  “We’re having a big party next Friday, man, if you want to come.”

  Chris didn’t say anything, waiting to see how his boy would respond.

  Justin shook his head. “I… I don’t…. I think I got plans.”

  “I think you do too.” He smiled at Justin and nodded at the bags and stuff. “Let’s get the car loaded.”

  “Okay. Okay, yeah. See you, man.”

  “I’ll call. I think Marc’s looking for a bigger room.” Clearly Justin’s former roommate had already moved on. It really was all about the shared expenses and partying with this kid.

  They got the car loaded up, and Chris waited while Justin returned the keys.

  Chris started the car and headed for home. “You good?”

  “I guess.” Justin was looking at his hands.

  He knew that look. “Talk to me, Just.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about.”

  Right. Bondage. Need. A new love. Swimming. Losing his job. Moving. Nothing to talk about. Chris snorted. “There’s plenty to talk about.”

  Justin shook his head. “I’m cool.”

  He’d always hated that. Always. He growled a little bit. “Don’t lie to me.”

  “I’m not lying.”

  “You can’t honestly tell me you’re cool.”

  “Sure I can. Like a cucumber. Icy, even.”

  He snorted again.

  “Stop snorting at me.” Was that a growl?

  “Then stop telling me how cool you are about every damn thing in your life right now. How you don’t need to talk about anything.”

  “What the fuck do you want?”

  He pulled into the drive and hit the button for the garage door opener. Once he’d stopped the car, he turned to Justin to answer his boy. “Everything.”

  Justin rolled his eyes. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

  “Yes, it does. I’m absolutely serious about it too.”

  Justin just stared at him, those eyes almost wild. Chris could see the stress, the panic, the worry—all of them right there.