Making a Splash

by Sean Michael

  “What the hell? Austin?” He got up off the ground and trotted after Austin, grabbing hold of his lanky swimmer’s arm. “Hey. What’s going on with you? Oh! Baby, your sugars? Are you okay?”

  Austin tried to pull away, stumbling away a few steps. “Leave me alone.”

  “I don’t think so. If I have to sit on you and take your sugars myself, I will.” Damn, Austin had warned him of the mood swings with the low sugars, but this was a bit freaky.

  “Fuck you.” Austin’s mouth opened and closed, eyes blinking at him.

  Vince’s jaw dropped in shock. He snapped it shut again, dragging Austin over to where the kid’s bag sat. He searched through it one-handed, the other hand keeping a good grip on Austin. “Your sugars sure as hell had better be messed up, baby, or you are in deep, deep shit for that.”

  Austin was panting, fighting him, trembling in his hands. “Lemme fuckin’ go. Want to go.”

  “No fucking way.” His glare turned into a triumphant grimace as he got hold of Austin’s glucometer and pulled it out of the bag. “You gonna do this yourself or make me do it?”

  Austin reached out, hands shaking badly before he dropped the glucometer.

  “All right, sit, baby.”

  Vince found the glucose shot and set it at the ready before grabbing Austin’s hand and using the penlet to poke one of Austin’s fingers. Shit, he should have put the little test strip in first. Or maybe he should say screw the whole testing thing and give Austin the shot of glucose first.

  He realized his own fingers were trembling almost as badly as Austin’s, and he forced himself to calm down. To not think of what might have happened if he’d let Austin go back up there for another dive. He got the test strip in and Austin’s blood onto it, and ten seconds later he had a reading: 34.

  Shit.

  Okay.

  He was still feeling shaky but got the shot into Austin’s thigh and took a few breaths, praying it did the trick. He tried not to count down the seconds, but sure enough, the glucagon worked like Austin had said it would. Austin relaxed a little, eyes focusing on his and going panicky. “Vince?”

  He reached out for Austin’s hand, squeezing it tight. “Right here, baby. It’s okay. You’re okay.” Shit. That was fucking scary, and he could live without it ever happening again. Ever. He managed to find a smile for Austin, hoped to God it looked authentic and in control. “You’re okay.”

  “I need a snack.”

  “Yeah. Yeah, I’ve got crackers and cheese in here. And some of those pepperette things.” He dug in the bag and pulled out the little lunchbox cooler he’d packed up, opened it up, and offered it to Austin. Keep breathing, he reminded himself. Austin was fine. Just fine.

  Austin ate, slowly easing, growing quieter and quieter. When the crackers were gone, Austin brushed off his hands. “Okay. I’m ready to try again.”

  Vince shook his head and handed over the glucometer. “Test again first. Please.”

  “’Kay.” Austin did it, quick and sure, waiting. “Ninety-nine. Normal.”

  He nodded. “And you’re feeling okay? Feeling back to yourself? Not shaky or anything?”

  “I feel like I’m gonna puke, but I’m good.” Those eyes met his, subdued. “I’m sorry.”

  Vince shook his head. “Once we’re done here, we’ll figure out what went wrong, but you don’t have to apologize.”

  “Okay. I’m going to dive now.”

  “Okay. Good. Okay.” The minute Austin headed up the ladder, Vince started pacing, adrenaline rushing through him.

  Shit. Shit. That had sucked. Totally sucked. He allowed himself panic time until Austin was ready to dive, and then he forced himself to stop pacing, to push it away and focus on Austin’s dive.

  It wasn’t dead-on, but it was solid, Austin a little slow out of the water. He nodded, relieved, making a note about the dive out of habit.

  “You want to hit the showers, baby? Austin. You want to hit the showers, Austin?” Man, and Austin had thought he was hovering before?

  “No. I want to keep diving until lunch.” Austin headed for the ladder.

  “Yeah? You’re sure you’re okay? You’ll let me know if you start feeling funny again, right?” He was three rungs up the ladder when he realized he was following Austin, and he climbed back down, shaking his head at himself.

  “Yes, Vince. I’m fine.” Austin started moving, up, down, up, down, over and over.

  Vince took notes and paced alongside the pool. He wanted a cigarette in the worst fucking way, but even if he hadn’t quit right alongside Austin, even if Austin didn’t know he had, there was no smoking in the pool facility, and there was no fucking way he was leaving Austin alone in the pool. “Okay,” he called out a while later. “Let’s break for lunch.”

  “Okay.” Austin headed for his towel, frowning a little. “I could eat.”

  He nodded. “I could handle a beer myself.” Or twenty. And that cigarette. “Why don’t you test your sugars real quick before we go.”

  “I’ll do it before we eat.”

  “Okay.” He nodded, hand going to the small of Austin’s back, rubbing a little. “How are you feeling? You still a bit shaky? Better? Worse?”

  “I’m grouchy. Pissed off. Embarrassed.”

  He shook his head at that. “Yeah, but you’re here. And we’ll figure out what went wrong and make sure it doesn’t happen again. And now that I’ve seen it? I’ll recognize it sooner if it does happen again.” He shook his head. “Baby, I’m happy you’re not dead.”

  “I’m not going to die. I have diabetes and am used to Pop-Tarts and Snickers for breakfast.”

  “You mean all of this was because you dosed up for Pop-Tarts and Snickers before and today I made you eat fruit and cheese?”

  “Prob’ly.”

  He started to laugh. “Oh, man. Doesn’t that figure.” He shook his head. “So does that mean I was meddling too much or not enough?”

  “I don’t know. Hell, let me go back to what I was doing. It worked.” Oh, man. Austin was grumpy.

  “Let’s get you fed before we make any decisions.” He was seriously considering relenting on the no-cigarettes rule. Or maybe tying Austin up in bed and fucking the grumps right out of him until he was used to the new regimen. Hell, if there wasn’t a meet coming up, he’d be doing more than just considering it.

  “Okay.” Austin crawled up into the cab of the truck and closed his eyes, sunglasses pushed on.

  Sighing, Vince made his way around and started the truck up. “Triple cheeseburgers and banana splits, right? Where do you want them?”

  “I really want a grilled cheese and a bowl of tomato soup.” He got a quick look. “I’m queasy as hell.”

  “Hey, you should have said something, baby.” He reached over and squeezed Austin’s leg before turning the truck around and heading home. He could do grilled cheese and tomato soup in his sleep.

  “Yeah.” Austin relaxed into the seat, catnapping all the way home.

  Vince kept one eye on the road and the other on Austin, happy when they got back to the house. He nudged Austin. “We’re home, baby.”

  “Huh? Cool.” Austin nodded, headed in. “I’ll get some soup.”

  “And I’ll do the sandwiches.” And watch Austin to make sure he didn’t burn the house down. “You want mozzarella or jack in yours?”

  “Jack, I think.” Austin fought with the can and the pan, before grabbing a piece of bread from the stack.

  “Whoa, slow down there, baby. Your soup, remember? And I can do it if you need to sit and take your sugars again, yeah?” He dug the glucometer out of the bag and handed it over, giving Austin his best “do as I say” look.

  “I was gonna eat the bread, Vince.” Austin stuffed half of it in his mouth.

  “Oh.” He shook his head and laughed at himself. “Okay, so that was overhovering. Take your sugars anyway, ’kay? I think I’m allowed a little overzealousness under the circumstances.”

  “I need to wait until my
shot, Vince. Trust me. I’ve been shooting up since I was two.”

  Vince grabbed some bread and started buttering the outsides. “Well, you’ll have to forgive me. Today was my first crash.” He stopped what he was doing and looked Austin right in the eye. “That scared me this morning, Austin.”

  “Yeah. They always scare me.” Austin sighed, then put the pot on the stove. “You having second thoughts? About me, I mean? I’d get it, if you did.”

  “No way.” He shook his head. “That thought never crossed my mind.” Of course, he had a feeling Austin wasn’t going to like what had crossed his mind. Not that 24-7 full-bore hovering was good for any diver, let alone a twenty-three-year-old man, but Vince had to admit, it had occurred to him. “I’m trying not to go all hovering Coach Vince on you here, Austin. I really am.”

  “I know. Diabetes sucks, you know? It’s fucked.”

  “Yeah. And I’ve done lots of reading, and you’ve been great as far as crashing goes up ’til now, so I thought I had a handle on it. Now that I know what I’m looking for, I’ll catch you sooner, yeah? And it won’t be so scary.” He put down the sandwiches and went over to Austin, wrapping his arms around his baby. “I love you, yeah?”

  “Even if this is a real thing? I mean, you know what diabetes does, right?”

  He cupped Austin’s face. “You expect me to pack up and go because it’s not easy? Because this disease is going to slowly eat away at you?” He shook his head. “That’s not the way I love, baby. I’m here for the long haul. Of course, that doesn’t mean I’m not going to do what I can to tip the scales in our favor. Your Pop-Tart days are gone, over, done.”

  “Is this where I point out I was much more pleasant with Pop-Tartage?” Those too-green eyes were sparkling.

  “It’s not the lack of Pop-Tarts, baby. It’s the cold turkey on the nicotine thing.” He winked, wrapping his arms back around Austin. He buried his face in Austin’s warm neck and held on for a moment before bringing their lips together in a soft, heartfelt kiss.

  “Yeah, yeah.” Austin was almost clinging to him. “I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

  “I’ll forgive you. This time.”

  They shared another kiss, and then Vince pulled away reluctantly. “Much as I’d rather make like bunnies, I don’t think skipping food’s such a good idea for you right now.”

  “Picky, picky, picky.” Austin nodded, laughed a little. Vince laughed too and gave Austin another quick kiss.

  It didn’t take long at all to grill up the sandwiches and heat the soup, and soon Vince was putting a bowl and plate in front of Austin along with a tall glass of milk.

  “Eat up, baby. I’ll make it worth your while.”

  Austin tested his sugars, then started chowing down, devouring two sandwiches and two bowls of soup.

  Vince slid a foot along Austin’s leg, watching him eat.

  “Eat your lunch.” Austin pushed a bowl over toward him.

  “What? I’m not allowed to admire the scenery?” He grabbed a spoon.

  “Nope. No admiring. Eat. Pay attention.”

  “It’s just tomato soup and grilled cheese, baby.”

  “It’s good grilled cheese, though.”

  “It is.” He nodded and told himself to put the whole incident behind him, act like it had been a normal day at the pool.

  He grabbed his notebook and opened it to the page with his list of the dives he wanted Austin to focus on. “You think you can live with these for the meet?”

  Austin looked. “I want to put one of the twists in. I can have it down by the meet.”

  He grinned. Oh, there was his diver, refusing to back down from a dive. “All right.” Vince handed over his pen. “Add it in.”

  Austin nodded, scribbling in the two and a half twist.

  “Cool. We’ll go back after supper, do some evening diving. You can work on it then.” Vince wasn’t quite ready to head back to the pool this afternoon.

  “Okay. I’ll go to the trampoline and work it out this afternoon.”

  “Sounds good.” He loved watching Austin play on the trampoline. Hell, he loved watching Austin, period. “I want you taking your sugars every few hours for the next while, baby. We’re mixing up your diet, you’re exercising more—you need to be careful.”

  “Yeah, doc. Okay.” Austin nodded, looking settled and solid. “I’m telling you. Pop-Tarts are the answer.”

  “Sorry, Austin, you’re still cut off. I suppose I could eat them and you could kiss me—get ’em vicariously. Hey, maybe I’m on to something here—we could do the same thing with the cigarettes….”

  Austin started laughing. “Oh, hell no. You’re off.”

  “Brat.” He winked and leaned in, looking for a kiss. He couldn’t resist Austin, not when he was happy like this.

  “Yeah, yeah. Don’t make me beat you, Coach.” Austin kissed him hard, tongue pushing into his lips.

  “Perv,” Vince accused before grabbing hold of Austin’s tongue and sucking on it.

  Austin groaned, pressed close, cock starting to fill. “Vince. You’re gonna distract me.”

  Vince let his hand slide back and find Austin’s ass, cupping it. “I’m thinking maybe we could both use a little distraction, baby.”

  “Oh.” Austin caught his eyes again. “I could. I hate shit like what happened.”

  He nodded, letting Austin see how much he loved, letting it all show in his eyes. “Come on, baby. Let’s go upstairs and do it right.”

  “Oh, afternoon delight!” Austin nodded, eyes dancing. “I’m right behind you, Coach.”

  Fuck, he loved that look, that happiness. “You want to check out my ass as I head up the stairs.”

  “Well, duh.” Austin rolled his eyes, stuck his tongue out.

  Vince leaned in again and grabbed Austin’s tongue between his teeth, nipped it sharply, and then turned and took off, heading up the stairs, knowing Austin would be hot on his tail.

  Chapter Fourteen

  AUSTIN ALMOST had this whole thing down. Sort of.

  Maybe.

  Hell, he didn’t know.

  He headed out to the trampoline about 3:00 a.m., after he woke up, wide awake and ready to work. Twists. He was learning to twist.

  Well, he knew how to twist. But he was learning how to do a metric fuckton of them. In a row. Go him.

  He got up on the tramp and started jumping, enjoying the dark, the quiet, the bouncing.

  He didn’t know how long he’d been at it, twisting and twisting and twisting some more, when Vince’s voice came out of the darkness. “Baby? What are you doing out here?”

  “Twisting.” Well, that’s what he intended to say. He was sort of gasping, so what came out was “’istin’.”

  “What?” Vince appeared suddenly at the side of the trampoline, watching him. “You know I’m the insomniac in the family, right?”

  “I’m not an insomniac. I’m a night owl.” Jump. Twist. Spin.

  “Man, that’s beautiful,” murmured Vince. Then he cleared his throat. “Did you have breakfast? I don’t mind you making your own schedule, but if you’re getting up at 3:00 a.m., you have to have breakfast, or a snack, check your sugars, take your meds.”

  “Bossy, bossy.” He did another one, loving it, the way it felt to move.

  “Not bossy, the coach. And I’m serious about the eating and the sugars and the meds.”

  “Okay. I needed to move, you know? Twist.”

  “It’s looking great, Austin. You’re losing a little speed on the middle one. If you could pick it up a touch, it won’t be such a panic to come out of the last one before hitting the water—or in this case the trampoline.”

  “’Kay, Coach.” He loved this, the way his body listened to him.

  He did three more, and by the third Vince gave a cheer. “That’s it! You’ve got it now.”

  He did it four more times, then stopped, bouncing slowly before he settled, panting hard.

  Vince climbed up onto the trampoline, jumping few
times and making him go up without any effort on his part. Then Vince’s arms came around him, a kiss dropping on his neck. “Beautiful, baby. I think you’ve almost got it the way you need it. Of course, we have to see if you can translate it to the diving board, but you know where you were going wrong now.”

  Vince was wearing nothing but a pair of boxers, his body warm wherever they touched.

  “Yeah, I know how it feels.”

  “Does it feel better? When you’re doing it right? I mean, I know you can feel the difference, but does it make a difference on the trampoline when you’ve nailed it?” Vince’s fingers were warm as Vince slid them randomly along his back.

  “Yeah. It’s hard to see it and know. I have to feel what needs to change, you know?”

  “You’ll still let me film you in those sweet little Speedos, right? I mean technically it’s so we can look at your dives together and show you where you’re going wrong. But really it’s almost as good as porn.”

  Austin could hear that teasing note in Vince’s voice. “Perv.” He goosed Vince, laughing hard.

  Vince jumped about a foot and a half. “Hey! That’s Coach Perv.” Vince laughed and then sobered suddenly. “Heh. Maybe that’s not something I should be joking about.”

  “Hey.” He reached up, cupped Vince’s jaw. “Joking means it’s getting better, yeah?”

  Vince nuzzled into his hand. “Yeah. I guess I have some worries of my own, you know? Different ones than you because I know you’re going to knock their socks off. There’s going to be talk, though… and it’ll be true this time.”

  “Nope. I’m no kid, and you’re not taking advantage. We’re solid.” Gold.

  He could feel Vince’s smile against his hand. “Thanks, baby. That’s good to hear. I never would… hell, I fought this thing between us because of the accusations. I can’t live my life for what other people are going to think.”

  “Anyone bitches and I will kick their asses.” No one was gonna bitch at his lover. Not if he could help it.

  “It’s been a long time since the shoe’s been on that foot—I’m usually the one looking out for my divers.” Vince hugged him close. “Feels good.”