Here Comes the Flood

by Kate McMurray

  Isaac brought his arm down and ran it along Tim’s spine. “We good?”

  “Anywhere else you need shaved?”

  Isaac gestured for Tim to back away slightly so he could run his hands over his arms, armpits, and legs. “You did a good job.” Then he ran his hands over his chest and belly. He tilted his head as if he were deciding if more work was needed. Then he slid a hand into his briefs, pressing his fingertips to the area just above his penis. “Yeah, okay, probably the, er, bikini area too.”

  “Really?”

  “Have you seen how low the official swimsuits ride? I can’t have any hair there either.”

  “Do you do the whole Brazilian thing? Like, get your balls waxed and all that?”

  “Yup. Hurts like a mother. Luckily I’ve never been super hairy down there, so I usually only have to do the whole shebang once a season.” Isaac tilted his head. “How do you stay so hairless under that little swimsuit?”

  “I see a lady back home who just does the parts the swimsuit doesn’t cover. I’ve never had my balls waxed.”

  “It’s an experience. You could help me out now and get right above my cock, the creases of my thighs, anything where there might be hair.”

  “So you’d have to get naked.”

  Isaac winked at Tim. “That a problem?”

  “Not for me.”

  Isaac stood and slid off his briefs. The sight of Isaac’s cock, which plumped up a little under Tim’s gaze, momentarily mesmerized Tim. Isaac then sat back on the toilet seat and spread his legs. “Go to town.”

  Good Lord.

  Tim took a good look first, reminding himself he was helping Isaac stay competitive and not sitting face-to-crotch with a man he really liked. Isaac’s cock was right there, though, practically calling to him. Tim wanted to take it in his mouth, but instead he lifted it slightly to get a better look at where Isaac’s hair grew back.

  Isaac’s body hair was dark, at least, and easy to spot. There was stubble above his cock, along the sides of it, at the tops of his thighs. Isaac shifted his hips enough for… Lord… Tim to see his asshole too, which seemed completely hairless. Tim slid his thumb across it.

  “Woah, buddy,” Isaac said with a laugh.

  “Just making sure there’s no hair.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Tim grabbed the shaving cream and wiped some over the stubbly areas. He carefully scraped it away, satisfied when removing the shaving cream revealed smooth skin.

  He tried to ignore the fact that Isaac was getting hard.

  But by the time Tim finished, Isaac was fully erect, his cock huge. Tim took the washcloth Isaac handed him and wiped away the last of the shaving cream. Isaac looked down and inspected Tim’s work, running his fingers over his whole area. Then he grabbed his balls.

  “Nice job,” Isaac said. “It feels good.”

  Tim leaned forward a little and made a show of looking close. “I mean, I should probably get a closer look.”

  “If it’s for quality assurance purposes….”

  “It is.”

  Tim took Isaac’s cock into his mouth.

  Isaac moaned and widened his legs further, then pressed his fingers into Tim’s hair. He massaged Tim’s scalp as Tim licked and sucked, enjoying the pressure and weight of Isaac’s cock against his tongue. Then he backed off slightly but dove down to lick the area he’d just shaved. The lingering shaving cream tasted bitter and chemical, but Tim had to have his tongue against Isaac. He licked the newly smooth skin, then took each of Isaac’s balls into his mouth—quality assurance, as well as making sure that pre-Games wax still served him well—and Isaac hissed and moaned above him. Then Tim dove back onto Isaac’s cock, sucking it into his mouth and licking the underside.

  “Good God in heaven,” Isaac muttered, shifting his hips a little, lifting off the toilet seat, fucking Tim’s mouth. “You’re doing a good job there too.”

  Tim smiled at the pun but kept sucking, wanting to feel Isaac come on his tongue. He lifted his hand and fisted Isaac’s cock, stroking it hard, pulling more moans from Isaac.

  Then Isaac’s back arched and he said, “Oh, fuck,” and he came in Tim’s mouth.

  Tim held him there until he stopped pulsing, then opened his mouth to show Isaac what he’d left behind. Isaac groaned at the sight. Tim closed his mouth, swallowed, and showed Isaac his clean tongue. Isaac groaned harder.

  “That was hot,” Isaac said, panting.

  Tim knelt back and grinned up at Isaac.

  Isaac bent forward, cupped Tim’s cheek, and kissed him hard. Tim opened his mouth, letting Isaac’s tongue inside, and hoped Isaac could taste himself there.

  Isaac pulled away slightly. He kissed Tim’s nose. “I want to take a shower and wash away some of the shaving cream residue. Care to join me?”

  “I’d love to.”

  ISAAC WOKE up the next morning once again curled around Tim, only this time they were both buck naked and Isaac’s hard cock had wedged itself between Tim’s asscheeks. He sighed happily, enjoying the pressure of Tim’s soft skin against his own.

  Isaac had wound up returning the favor for Tim, shaving all around Tim’s cock and balls and then showering again, and they’d gone late into the night, playing with each other’s naked bodies, washing, making out. Isaac had come three times, making his current hard-on kind of a miracle, and Tim had come that much too.

  It had been awesome.

  No penetration yet, but Isaac didn’t want to do anything that would fuck with Tim’s body more than he already had. Bottoming didn’t necessarily lead to pain, but sometimes the burn lingered, especially if one hadn’t bottomed in a while. Isaac didn’t want to chance it, and Tim seemed reluctant too. Though Tim had promised they would fuck immediately after his last dive. “I’ll take you in the locker room while I’m still wearing my gold medal, if it comes to that,” he’d said.

  And wasn’t that an image to keep Isaac warm at night?

  Isaac ran his hand down Tim’s chest and grabbed his also-hardening cock. He gave it a squeeze.

  “How is it possible either of us has anything left?” Tim asked.

  “We’re that hot together,” Isaac said.

  “What time is it?”

  Isaac glanced back at the bedside clock. “Eight.”

  “Fuck. I have to be at practice in two hours.”

  “Me too. My first race is right at noon.”

  Tim pulled away and rolled over to face Isaac. “I just want to say, this has been the best meet of my entire life. And last night was a heck of a lot of fun.”

  Isaac smiled and kissed Tim softly. “I can’t believe I want you again.”

  Tim laughed. “I know. But we should get up.”

  Tim rolled out of bed and stretched. Isaac got an eyeful of Tim’s whole body, which was basically perfect. He was a smaller man than Isaac—narrower shoulders, smaller waist, shorter legs—but he was well proportioned. He had those round muscles on his arms, the well-defined pecs and abs, his half-hard cock hanging there as if waiting for something, and those powerful thighs. Isaac leaned over and ran a hand from Tim’s hip to his knee. “God, your thighs. So amazing.”

  “It’s from the springboard work. All springboard divers have huge thighs.”

  “Not huge. Strong. I like them.”

  “That’s good. Not everyone does. Pat used to tell me I had fat thighs.”

  “No. Definitely not fat. Look at this muscle definition.” Isaac ran his fingers along the ridge of muscle down the side of Tim’s thigh. “Your legs are amazing.”

  “Thanks.”

  Isaac shifted his weight on the bed, missing having Tim next to him. “This Pat fellow. He sounds like a terrible human being.”

  Tim laughed. He sat back down on the bed, facing away from Isaac. “I don’t know if I’d go that far.”

  “Can I ask what really happened? You’ve alluded to some things, but I feel like I don’t have the whole picture.”

  Tim sighed. “I… well. We met at
a bar, I think. I don’t really remember it well. I think he must have known who I was at that point. It was shortly after I won my gold medal four years ago, so pictures of me were all over the internet. I don’t know if he sought me out, but I didn’t suspect anything at the time. And I thought we were happy, but apparently I’m a terrible judge of character.”

  “You like me, so….” Isaac meant it as a joke, but he couldn’t deny there was a little truth to it; he still doubted sometimes he was worthy of Tim’s attentions. Still, at least he wasn’t a total asshole. This story Tim was about to tell seemed like it might reveal that Pat was indeed a total asshole.

  Tim smiled ruefully. “Long story short, it took me longer than it should have to realize he’d manipulated me to benefit his own career. He was already publicly out when we started dating, or he told me he was, but ‘publicly’ is relative. He meant that he’d been outed on a gay gossip blog with a tiny readership. I think he thought getting outed would garner him more attention. His personal philosophy was that any publicity is good publicity, so his being gay would be newsworthy enough to get him the kind of attention he could parlay into more work, or so he thought. Which is so strange to me, because don’t most actors stay in the closet because coming out would cost them jobs?”

  “I thought so.”

  “Right. Anyway. We kept a low profile until he had the idea to do the coming-out video. Only it turned out that I was more famous than him. I mean, the headlines were things like Gold Medalist Tim Swan Comes Out in Video with Actor Boyfriend. That really bothered Pat. He has a small, devoted following online—all these girls who are fans of his show—so I think he thought he had a big enough platform. But we did the video, and then things got creepy.”

  “How?” Isaac lightly ran a hand along Tim’s back. Tim was tense, which Isaac took to mean he found this upsetting to talk about. Isaac was glad he was willing to share, though.

  “I started getting messages from people telling me how brave I was, which was nice, although I didn’t feel especially brave. But then Pat’s fans started making art. I wanted to ignore it, but Pat used to collect it. And some of it was really creepy. Like, drawings of us in bed together. Stories about our sex lives. And they used to send all these messages over social media about how cute we were. I started to feel like I was their pet. But that was nothing compared to the fact that, you know, we were engaged, so I let Pat have access to my bank accounts.”

  “Oh no.” Isaac’s heart sank; he knew exactly where this was going.

  “He never loved me. He thought being with me was his ticket to fame. I didn’t realize it because I was so head over heels for him and we were having fun together. And I guess the fan following for his show brought some cachet, because I started getting sponsorships from unexpected places. Like, places that wanted me to model their clothes, that kind of thing.”

  “You don’t think you would have gotten those jobs without Pat? Cuz you’re really hot. You could model a trash bag and people would buy it.”

  Tim sighed. “Being with Pat attracted a different kind of fan, I guess. And the extra money was nice, I can’t complain about that. But then his show got canceled and everything went south. Instead of asking to borrow money from me, he just took it. When I finally confronted him about it, he showed his true colors.”

  Isaac felt a spike of jealousy at hearing Tim had been head over heels for this guy, but more than that, he wanted to hug Tim close and protect him from assholes like that. “God, I’m so sorry you went through that.”

  Tim nodded and looked down. Isaac realized his rapid blinking meant he was trying to keep the tears at bay. “The worst part is that I felt like such an idiot. I should have seen it, you know? I should have known he was manipulating me. He played me for a fool for a long time. When I figured it out, I was heartbroken. And I was mortified. How could I have let this happen?”

  Isaac moved his hand in what he hoped were comforting circles along Tim’s back. “You were in love.” And wasn’t that a kick in the teeth?

  “Yeah. I did really love him once. But that’s all over now.”

  A thousand clichés about love being blind ran through Isaac’s head, but he was having a hard time keeping his jealousy in check. This asshole had received Tim’s love for several years and he’d wasted it.

  “I’m not…. Am I making a mistake like that with you?” Tim asked after Isaac took too long to respond. “My gut says no, but I don’t know if I trust my instincts anymore.”

  It was like an ice pick to Isaac’s heart, but his own confidence in his ability to be a good partner was precarious. He cared about Tim and liked what they had together; he wanted it in his life for as long as he could have it. But could he stay on the wagon? “Honestly? I don’t know. By that, I mean I won’t steal your money. I won’t use you to gain anything. I don’t want anything from you except your affection, and that’s the God’s honest truth. But I’m an alcoholic. I’m probably not a good bet.”

  Tim nodded slowly. “I’ve been thinking about that. I keep telling myself that this ends when we fly home, so it doesn’t matter. You respect your sport too much to relapse while you’re competing, so I believe you won’t drink while you’re here, but after that….”

  “That’s true. And I swear I am going to fight my base nature and stay sober. I can’t… I can’t go back to where I was, how I was living. I was in such a dark place. I never want to see rock bottom again.” And that was true. Staying sober was the hardest thing Isaac had to cope with, and he confronted temptation on a daily basis. But he vividly remembered the cop yanking him out of his car, followed by the moment he realized it had all spun too far out of control, that he’d put his life and the lives of many others in danger because of his own selfishness and addiction. He’d never in his entire life felt as awful as he had in that moment, and he never wanted to feel that again.

  “I believe you,” Tim said. “I believe you want sobriety. I know there’s risk, but the thing is, I want to be with you. For more than just the Olympics.”

  Isaac breathed slowly for a long moment. Tim’s faith squeezed Isaac’s heart. “I want that too.”

  “You see me. You get me. That was never true for Pat.”

  “You have faith in me. So few of the people in my life do. I don’t blame them, because I did a lot of shitty things when I was drunk, but I guess I’ve gotten used to everyone doubting me.”

  “What a pair we make.”

  Isaac laughed softly. “Yeah.” He shook his head, feeling truly encouraged for the first time in a while. “I can’t make any promises about my drinking. I have to control my impulses daily. I’ve been on the wagon for seventeen months, one week, and five days, but I’ve fallen off in the past, and I probably will again. I don’t want to. I battle it constantly. But I can promise I never want to deliberately hurt you. And I could have died. I could have given up and sunk into that dark place and been lost there. But I clawed my way out of the bottle precisely so that I could live a full life, and I intend to do that.” Because while Isaac missed the sweet oblivion of being drunk, the life he led now was so much better. Feeling strong and healthy, swimming to the best of his ability, spending time with people he cared about—all of that was a thousand times better than being drunk. He wanted this life, not his old one.

  Tim turned around, propping his legs up on the bed. He looked down at where Isaac still lay. “I don’t know how we make this work.”

  “One day at a time.” Isaac reached over and took Tim’s hand. “That’s how I approach my sobriety. I take every day as it comes. So we live each day as if it’s the last one. We spend as much time together as we can, we cheer each other on when we can, and we’ll worry about everything else when the day arrives that we have to tackle it. All right?”

  Tim nodded. “All right. One day at a time.” He leaned down and kissed Isaac’s forehead. Then he glanced at the clock. “Come on, let’s go get breakfast. I’m starving.”

  “I’m under strict orders fr
om my coach to up my calorie intake. Think they’ll have bacon at the cafeteria today? And sausage? Ooh, what about that Spanish ham they had the other day. So salty and delicious.” Isaac let his head fall back and made orgasm noises.

  Tim laughed and got up.

  Chapter 16

  Day 5

  DAY FIVE of swimming was a little rough. After the prelims and semis of the 200 breaststroke, Isaac had moved on to the finals, although he wasn’t happy with his times. After the semi, Adam found him at the warm-up pool and asked to chat for a minute.

  “What’s up?” Adam said as Isaac hauled himself out of the pool.

  “I don’t know. You’re the one who wants to talk.”

  Adam rolled his eyes. “I swear to Mark Spitz, kid. Twenty-nine years old, and sometimes you still act like the teenager you were when we first started training for the Olympics.” Adam sighed. “You looked upset after the last race. What’s going on?”

  “I should have gone faster.”

  “You’re in the final. Doesn’t matter.”

  “I’m tired. And I have the 400 free tonight still.”

  Adam glanced at his watch. “In an hour and a half. Go see Bill.”

  Bill was the Chinese medicine specialist. “Are you fucking serious?”

  “If you don’t want to do any of the therapies, that’s fine. But he might be able to massage any soreness or at least give you a space to lie down quietly for a while. I don’t want you to cool down all the way, so wear your coat over there. You need to rest up somehow, and there isn’t time for you to go back to your room. But you gotta do something to get some of your strength back if you’re weak or hurting.”

  Isaac toweled off and shrugged into his coat. He could feel the fatigue in his muscles. He knew he should have spent more time sleeping last night instead of fooling around with Tim—that his lack of sleep was affecting him now—but he couldn’t say he regretted it that much. Or at all. He just hated that he was paying for it now, especially since four years ago, he could have partied a lot harder and still coasted to a win. He couldn’t tell if it was good or bad that he had to fight harder for it now.