And now: four and a half somersaults, starting from the arm stand position.
When he got to the top of the platform, Tim looked out at the audience. Isaac’s head was turned in his direction, so Tim imagined they made eye contact again.
Tim didn’t have anything to prove, he realized. He’d won this event four years ago and performed very well here. He was one of the best divers in the world and had been for five years. He was young enough that he probably had another Olympics in him, barring injury. He loved this sport, loved hurling himself through the air. But this wasn’t redemption. He wanted to show he was still good, but he’d done that. So if he won gold or silver, it didn’t matter. He wanted the gold, yes—he wanted it more than anything in the world right then—but he didn’t necessarily have control over whether he won it. Diving wasn’t a race; there was no objective indicator of who was the best. Just a group of flawed humans giving numerical values to each athlete.
All Tim could do was dive to the best of his ability.
He took a deep breath, tossed his shammy toward where Donnie stood, and walked to the end of the platform. He got into the arm stand, slowly lifting his legs into the air. He held the arm stand for a long moment. Then he bent at the waist and threw himself off the platform. He got into his tuck quickly, somersaulting through the air. He sighted the water, knew he had control over this dive, and when it was time, he kicked out and straightened. Hitting his hands on the water hurt like a bitch, but he knew he’d gotten his body position right, that he went into the water vertically.
And there it was. The best dive he could have executed.
He swam to the side of the pool and pulled himself out. The audience roared. Tim liked that, though he knew better than to think the volume of cheers would be reflected in the scoring. But then the score flashed on the scoreboard: all nines and tens. Final score: 134.4.
Tim walked by the coaches’ area. Donnie grinned and said, “That’ll do, pig.”
Tim rolled his eyes.
He was done now, so he didn’t bother with the showers or hot tub. Instead he found his shammy and stood near Donnie to wait for the last dive.
Liu was performing a back four-and-a-half, according to the scoreboard, which had a degree of difficulty 0.3 below the dive Tim had just done. Tim did the math. If Liu got all tens, he’d score a 135, which would be enough to win. And Liu could get tens across the board; Tim had seen him do it before. Even if he didn’t, the two-point lead Liu already enjoyed might be enough.
It would be close.
Liu got into position at the end of the platform. Then he jumped in the air, his body position perfect, his somersaulting clean. He kicked out, straightened his body, and went in straight but… splash.
A lot of splash.
Physics dictated that splashes like that could only happen if Liu had done something wrong—if his entry position hadn’t been quite right, if he’d moved his feet at the last second, if he’d failed to enter vertically. It was hard to tell what had happened, even in the replay on the screen, but what it meant was that Liu’s final dive was not perfect. Liu needed 133 points to win gold.
His score: 121.5.
Tim had won the gold medal.
Holy shit.
Donnie hugged Tim before Tim even really knew what was happening.
He wasn’t a fluke. He’d won that gold medal fairly at the last Olympics, even though everyone tried to talk him down—he was cute, he’d had a good day, the wind had thrown off everyone else. But Tim had just proved he’d belonged in the diving finals four years ago, and he belonged in the final now. He was the best platform diver in the world, and no one could take that from him. He’d worked his ass off, he’d thought through every part of the competition, and he’d put everything he had into his six dives today. This was his. He’d earned it.
Isaac was in the audience. Tim tried to see him, but he was at a bad angle in relation to the stands and couldn’t really see anybody, including his own family. But his parents had been there to see this. And Isaac had been too.
“Amazing.” Donnie slapped his ass. “Go change, kid. I want to sing the national anthem with you.”
ISAAC’S MOTHER was already back in Raleigh, but she’d called him that night anyway. When Isaac joked, “Ma, do you know how much this call is costing me?” she’d replied, “Oh, hush. You’ve got endorsement deals from here to Neptune. You can afford to talk to your old mother.”
She’d been calling to get his flight information so she could pick him up from the airport on Monday. Isaac felt some sadness at that; he, Luke, and Katie had been all over Madrid together in the days since Isaac’s little breakdown. Isaac and Luke had even done a filler segment for TBC where they toured some Madrid landmarks with a camera crew, including El Rastro, an open-air market where they found all manner of weird stuff. Isaac’s favorite site had been the Prado, but then, he’d always liked art museums.
They’d also taken in a lot of Olympic events; on top of the diving, they’d gone to see a bunch of track-and-field competitions, including cheering on American sprinter Jason Jones Jr. in the 100-meter sprint.
And he’d spent every night with Tim.
He was a bit embarrassed about his overreaction to Pat and that night at America House; he’d come very close to falling. Staring at that pint of beer, a battle had waged in Isaac’s head. He still thirsted for that beer, but he’d worked so hard. He and Tim had talked about it quite a bit in the intervening days. Tim seemed to understand that Isaac would have bad days, and Isaac promised to recommit to therapy when he got home so he didn’t fall into the trap of depending too much on Tim to help him on those days, especially since they’d be separated by geography.
And even with that one rough night, these had been the best two weeks of Isaac’s life, and he didn’t want them to end. He didn’t want to fly home to Raleigh and face the real world. He’d have to deal with the financial nonsense of his endorsement deals, for one thing, and how many of them were contingent on his continuing to swim. He’d have to decide if he wanted to stick around for another couple of World Cup seasons or if he wanted to retire. And then there was the big question: Would he stay in Raleigh?
The sun had gone down. Luke and Katie were probably doing it like rabbits and Tim was out with his family and the dive team, so Isaac was alone in his room. He hit the email icon on his phone, immediately regretting it as several hundred messages loaded. He scanned the names and subject lines, wondering which emails were worth his time.
He stopped on Re: Coaching positions at CU.
He held his breath.
He’d emailed the staff at the University of Colorado one night while waiting for Tim to return from training. It had been an impulse, although not one that he particularly regretted.
The reply said: Actually, one of our coaches is retiring at the end of this season, so we’re starting to think about replacements. Let’s talk when you return from Madrid.
So there it was.
Isaac held his breath for a moment, imagining his life beyond Madrid. Could he see himself ensconced in some mountain retreat with Tim? Could he coach? Could he see a way forward?
He could.
He let out the breath and smiled to himself.
A moment later there was a tap at the door. “It’s open,” Isaac called.
Tim opened the door and slid inside. “I think I’ve escaped them.” His gold medal still hung around his neck, and he was still wearing the official warm-up suit. He looked good, but tired.
“Yeah?” Isaac said.
“My parents went back to the hotel a half hour ago, but I was with Jason and the rest of my team at America House, but then I got really tired? So I told them I had to call it a night and we could party more tomorrow, but a bunch of people followed me back to the building. I had to get a security escort up here.” He sighed. “I lied to the security guard and told him I was on this floor and I could get to my room alone.”
“Okay.”
Tim flopped down next to Isaac on the bed. Then he slipped his gold medal off and handed it to Isaac. “I think you know what this means.”
Isaac laughed. “You want to have sex?”
Tim stood and pulled off parts of the warm-up suit. “Yep. How well supplied are you?”
“Well, they give out condoms like they’re energy bars around here, so pretty well. Are you serious?”
“Yup.” Tim had stripped down to a USA Diving T-shirt and his briefs, which were turquoise. “I have two more nights with you before we fly home, and I intend to make the most of them. I don’t have to train anymore, so if we fuck and I’m sore tomorrow, it’s all good. Get naked.”
Isaac laughed. “Tim, I—”
“Look, I’m riding a pretty intense wave of adrenaline right now, but I’m going to crash really hard soon, so I’d like to have sex with you while I’m still awake enough to participate. And as you’ll recall, we had a sex-for-medals agreement.”
“Well, I mean, by that measure, we should fuck… um, a bunch. How many medals did I win?” It was hard to concentrate when Tim was so naked. Because now he was. Naked. And standing at the side of the bed stroking his cock.
“Who cares? I won a gold medal today. That’s all that matters. Get naked, Isaac.”
Isaac slid off the bed and went into the bathroom. There was a bottle of lube in his toiletries bag, and he had the condoms from his welcome bag, so he grabbed those too and headed back to the bed. Tim lounged there, sprawled out on the skinny mattress, looking completely beautiful.
“I loved watching you today,” Isaac said. He dropped his supplies on the corner of the bed and then pulled his shirt off. He decided not to bother with stripping gracefully or putting on much of a show, because Tim was hard and his skin was flushed, so he was clearly ready to go. In fact, he picked up the bottle of lube, looked at it for a second, and then poured some on his hands.
Isaac’s heart pounded.
“That was some of the best diving I’ve done in… wow, years, maybe. I kept thinking about what you said. About just doing everything I had in me to do. So that’s what I did.”
“You were nearly perfect.”
“Yes. That’s… me at my best. I can do that.”
It wasn’t arrogance in Tim’s voice but rather awe, like he’d surprised himself today. Isaac knew the feeling. He pushed his sweats down his hips and hopped a little to get them off, until he was naked too. He slid on top of Tim.
“You can do amazing things,” Isaac said. “I’m not even saying that to stroke your ego. I had a lot of fun watching you today, and so did Luke and Katie. You earned that medal.”
Tim put his arms around Isaac. “Thanks. But honestly, I’m happy about it, but I really want to fuck right now, so maybe you could do that instead of talking?”
Isaac grinned. God, he wanted Tim. He’d been trying not to think too much about what it might be like to be inside Tim, because it was off the table until the competition ended. But now they were both finished with their respective events, and they could spend all night fucking.
Well, probably Tim would conk out after this first bout, but that was okay.
Isaac kissed Tim’s shoulder and reached for the lube. They worked together to prepare Tim. Their fingers kept tangling at the entrance to Tim’s body, and Isaac watched it up close while also kissing and licking Tim’s hard cock. Tim threw his head back and groaned.
“I’ve wanted this for two weeks,” Tim said.
“God, me too.”
“Kiss me, Isaac.”
Isaac granted the request, sneaking up Tim’s body and planting his lips on Tim’s. Tim spread his legs wide, inviting Isaac between them. So Isaac rolled on a condom and then positioned himself.
“Not much foreplay going on here,” Isaac said.
“The last two weeks have been foreplay. Do you know how sexy you are?”
“Do you know how sexy you are? I kept secretly hoping the impact on the water would pull your suit off.”
Tim smiled. “We use a special glue that keeps that from happening and also prevents wedgies, but I appreciate the thought.”
“Don’t tell me things like that. It ruins the illusion.”
Tim laughed. “Isaac? Please fuck me.”
Isaac bent his head and kissed Tim thoroughly while he shifted his hips and pressed the head of his cock against Tim’s hole. His pulse raced as he did it, his anticipation at high, prerace levels, not to mention the fact that this man beneath him, this man could make him laugh, could make him feel pride and affection, had shown him things he hadn’t seen in himself before, had woken up all these things in Isaac that Isaac had thought died the moment a cop had yanked him out of his car.
He had his life back.
He didn’t want to squander the opportunity.
He pressed forward, sinking slowly into Tim, who clutched at his back and moaned.
Tim and Isaac roamed their hands over each other’s bodies as Isaac pressed forward and they adjusted to being with each other this way. It had been a sexy two weeks, and if penetration had never been part of the equation, Isaac still would have gone home happy. But being inside Tim was something else entirely, tight and… connected. He felt connected to Tim.
Isaac loved Tim.
He couldn’t say it yet, though, so he expressed himself with his body, caressing Tim, shifting his hips, stroking in and out of Tim’s body. He kissed Tim tenderly and was rewarded with Tim’s arms around him, with Tim squeezing his muscles around Isaac’s cock—which nearly blinded Isaac, it felt so intense—with Tim’s cries and moans as they made love.
Warmth spread across Isaac’s chest, and he cherished this man who had reminded him of all the things he needed in life, this man who had inspired him to be the best person he could be. Because Isaac had won his medals—he’d walked away from that pint of beer—for himself, but he’d done it a little for Tim too. And he suspected Tim had done the same thing today.
Tim sucked marks across Isaac’s collarbone. He dug his nails into the small of Isaac’s back and threw his head back when Isaac got the angle right and hit Tim’s prostate.
Tim said, “I love this. So good.”
And Isaac smiled. He smoothed Tim’s hair off his sweaty forehead and kissed him. Then he thrust, picked up his rhythm, ran his hands all over Tim. He pinched Tim’s nipples, which made Tim shiver. Then he wrapped his hand around Tim’s cock.
Tim lifted his legs and wrapped them around Isaac’s waist. Isaac kept thrusting, trying to keep up a rhythm but losing it a little as Tim pushed him closer to orgasm.
“I’m close,” Tim whispered.
Isaac hated that it would be over so soon, but his lizard brain pushed him toward finishing it all, so he kept thrusting, kept stroking Tim’s cock, kept moving them together toward some impossible future that maybe was possible after all. When Tim broke, he cried out and clutched at Isaac’s hair, then came hot against Isaac’s belly. His body clamped down hard against Isaac, but Isaac kept thrusting, kept seeking his own orgasm, and then… oh God, there it was. Just utter insanity, everything white and flashbulbs bursting and Isaac came inside Tim and held him close as he moaned and whimpered through all of it.
Isaac kissed Tim’s face everywhere as he drifted back to reality. Tim looked up at him with a sleepy smile.
“Totally worth the wait,” Tim said.
“You’re going to fall asleep on me now, aren’t you?”
“I won a gold medal for you. Don’t you think I deserve a little sleep?”
Isaac slid out of Tim and got up to take care of the condom. “Yes. You do.”
By the time Isaac got back to the bed, Tim had fallen asleep in the position Isaac had left him, his legs splayed. Isaac cleaned him up a little and tucked him in. Tim never even stirred, just breathed steadily.
Isaac slid into bed. It wasn’t really comfortable, but he wouldn’t have sent Tim away for anything. Instead, he curled his body around Tim’s and said, “I can’t wait until we
can do this in a decent-sized bed.”
Tim murmured something that might have been “Hmmm?”
“Sleep, my gold-medal winner. Just sleep. We’ll worry about it tomorrow.”
TIM WOKE up slowly. When he was conscious enough to form rational thoughts, he noticed the room was dark but for the white glow of Isaac’s cell phone screen, which illuminated his face.
“What are you doing?” Tim asked.
Isaac hit the button on his phone that made the screen go dark. “Just checking my email.”
“Trouble sleeping?”
Isaac mumbled an assent. “Sorry if I woke you.”
“You didn’t. Anything good in your email?”
“Mostly fan mail. I’m trying to clean out my inbox to focus on the messages that are actually important. Although even then, it’s mostly my mother forwarding articles about me.”
“Good press?” Tim rolled slightly to better cuddle up against Isaac.
“Yeah, but through the filter of my mother. She won’t send me the articles that say mean things.”
Isaac put his phone on the side table and slid over into Tim’s space. Tim adjusted his hold on Isaac, snaking his hand around Isaac’s midsection.
“I want to thank you,” Tim said.
“For?”
“For not saying anything about our relationship. I could just focus on diving today.”
“Of course.” Isaac stroked Tim’s back. “Although the security guards had a role there.”
That was true. Tim and Donnie had met with security at the Aquatics Center a few days before to give them photos of Pat before Tim felt confident Pat had actually gone home. Only approved reporters would be let in during the competition. Whether others snuck in or not, Tim didn’t know about it, and he’d felt safe enough to push it out of his mind.
And once Pat flew back home, the tabloid media seemed to have lost interest in Tim.
Tim understood that media coverage was part of being an elite athlete, but there was a line between doing puff pieces for TBC or the occasional Sports Illustrated story and the kind of media attention Pat had brought into Tim’s life.
Here Comes the Flood Page 27