Tiernan stretched, blocking out the sound of the crowd in the stands. He’d already made the finals in the hundred meter backstroke, but he wasn’t thinking about the backstroke now. He wasn’t worried about the backstroke. Now, it was time to focus on the butterfly and making sure his time was under fifty-two, as close to fifty-one seconds as humanly possible.
“Good luck, Pace. You’re gonna need it.”
Tiernan looked up as Dylan sauntered past. Dylan winked obviously as he took his spot on the block.
“Hey.” Coach was there, forcing Tiernan to turn from where he was seriously considering punching Dylan in the face. “Ignore him. He’s not your competition. You are his.”
Tiernan nodded, focusing on Coach. It didn’t matter if Dylan was the highest-rated in the butterfly, if his odds were better than Tiernan’s. Dylan didn’t matter. He took a deep breath, forcing the nerves out of his body. The feeling never changed, no matter how many times he swam these events. No matter how prepared he felt, he could never shake the tingle in his fingers, the clench in his stomach as he faced the pool.
“You’re gonna be fine,” Coach told him with a firm hand on his shoulder. “Watch your kick-offs, use every inch of your body.”
Tiernan rolled his shoulders to get rid of any tension. He needed to be loose, to take full advantage of his height. He could do this.
Climbing onto the block, he didn’t let the nerves overtake him. He ignored Dylan a few rows down, focusing on the water, the stillness of it in the moment. It wouldn’t last long, but he’d be the one disrupting it, forcing it to move with him.
“On your mark,” came the announcement, and Tiernan could sense everyone down the line tense in anticipation. On the next command, they took their positions, feet slotting against the starting block.
This was his chance to prove everyone wrong about him, all those spiteful articles that dug up his past and questioned if he could do it this time. This was his time.
On the gun, the tension released with a snap as he dove into the water. Even though Tiernan had goggles, swimming was more about feel. He knew how many strokes it took to get from one end to the other. He knew how far his dives took him, and he let his body take over.
He couldn’t hear the crowd as he crashed through the water, hitting the other side and pushing back off. It wasn’t important what everyone else was doing. All that mattered was that he got to the mark first.
His arms propelled him forward, powerful strokes as he crossed the pool, towards the mark. It was these moments when he stopped thinking, stopped worrying, and just let his body take over. All the training, all the conditioning only worked if he trusted in it, like the very first time he’d realized he could do this.
His first swim meet seemed so long ago as he glided through the water; the screams of the crowd lost to the rush of water in his ears. He’d been so nervous then, a bouncing ball of energy, skinny and bony and too eager to please everyone. He’d won that first match, a moment of pure exhilaration he hadn’t quite managed to replicate in the last four years. He hit the water and stretched out his hands, slapping the X on the side of the pool. Spitting out water, he surfaced, panting for breath and searching out the screen showing the results.
A number two appeared over his lane, the replay showing beneath it.
Hands gripped his shoulders, shaking him in the water as he stared. Fuck, he couldn’t believe it. Second place. That was good enough to go to Paris.
His head felt light as the guy in the next row shook his hand. It was a surreal dream he found himself in as he climbed out of the pool and people surrounded him to congratulate him. It was different than any other meet he’d ever swam in. This one meant so much more.
Coach finally appeared as other guys disappeared. He had a smile on his face — probably the first one Tiernan had seen.
“Good job, Pace. But don’t get complacent. You’ve got two more events to qualify for.”
Tiernan smiled anyway. Coach always had an eye to the future.
“Guess I’ll see you in Paris, Pace,” Dylan said as he passed. He didn’t look particularly happy about it.
“Guess you will, Hoffman,” he replied easily, glad when Dylan left. “God, he’s such a dick.”
Coach ignored him, handing him a towel. “Your next focus is backstroke. You’re in for one event. Now let’s better your odds of a medal.”
Tiernan was all for that. It was officially official. Tiernan Pace was going to the 2024 Olympics.
Tiernan wasn’t sure what he’d expected when he’d called his parents, but more than the distracted “Congratulations” that he got.
“Did you hear me?” he asked, pulling back the curtains at the window. His hotel overlooked Orlando which, despite what tourist brochures said, looked like any other big city from this viewpoint. He couldn’t even see the beach from here.
“Hmm? Oh yes, honey,” his mother said, sounding far away. “I’m just at a fitting with your sister for her dress. You should see how beautiful it is.”
Tiernan would see her dress in a few weeks. He didn’t care about her dress — mermaid cut, she’d told him, with a beaded top and a golden sash around the middle, more information than he’d wanted.
“But were you paying attention?” Sometimes it still felt like he was ten years old, showing off a stunt on his bike for his dad, but he was too distracted with Ella modeling a new dress.
“Yes, Tiernan,” she said with a bit of a sigh, as though he was being annoying. “You’re going to the Olympics. That’s fantastic. Your father will be very pleased to hear it.”
Pleased. Not happy, or excited. Tiernan frowned, turning from the window. His bag was half-packed, even though he had another day and one more final to swim. If he placed top two in freestyle, he’d be going for all three events.
“So are you coming?” he asked over the background noise of Ella saying something.
“Well,” his mother said, and the knot in Tiernan’s stomach tightened at the word. “Oh, that color is beautiful on you, Ella — I don’t know, honey. It is very close to the wedding, and short notice.”
Tiernan didn’t point out that they’d known about this for months if not years.
“Ella will be there.” Maybe he could use that as an angle. They loved Ella.
“Yes, but we don’t want to intrude on her honeymoon.”
“You wouldn’t be,” Tiernan pointed out. “You wouldn’t be going to see her.”
They’d used to come to every meet back in high school. They’d used to cheer for him and buy him ice cream afterwards. Now, they wouldn’t come to the biggest competition of his life. After he’d come out, they’d stopped paying for things. They’d stopped coming to his college meets, as though swimming had somehow turned him gay. He supposed it could be worse; they could not talk to him at all. Sometimes he thought it might be better that way. At least he wouldn’t have to suffer through pretending their relationship was fine, trying to ignore the gay away.
On occasion, Ella acted as the buffer between them, even siding with Tiernan in rare moments, but she enjoyed the attention she got as the ‘good child’ too much to really push as hard as she could. It wasn’t her responsibility anyway, but it was nice to have support once in a while.
“We’ll have to look into it,” his mom said. “It’s expensive to fly to Europe, and we’re paying for Ella’s wedding, you know.”
Yes, Tiernan knew. He’d spent the last four years relying on sponsorships to get by, and so far, it had worked out all right, but it could have been so much worse.
“Ella’s not your only kid, Mom,” he said before he could stop himself. He shouldn’t have said it. It wouldn’t get him anywhere.
“I am aware of that, Tiernan,” she replied, a hard note to her voice that she rarely used. “I expect we’ll see you at the wedding.”
Tiernan sighed. It was pointless even to try. “Yes, I’ll be there because Ella asked me to come, and because it’s important to her.” Just like the Olympics were important to him, but no one else seemed to care.
“Then I will see you at the wedding,” she said and Tiernan flopped down in a chair by the window. There was no winning here.
“I’ll try not to disappoint you this time,” he replied, hanging up before she could respond. He rubbed his face and groaned. Why couldn’t they just be happy for him? They’d spend thousands of dollars on a wedding, but not to come see him swim at the biggest sporting event in the world, the biggest accomplishment of his life.
It wasn’t worth dwelling on, he told himself. He only had one more event to go, but no matter what, he was on the Olympic team. Coach would tell him to focus, that it wasn’t worth letting anyone get in his head, and he was right. It didn’t matter whether or not his parents came to the Olympics. He’d win with or without them. He’d already proven that he could do it. Now he just had to do it again.
Reaching for the remote, he turned on the television. He didn’t care what Coach said. He was going to relax tonight by watching some stupid home-buying show and yelling at the homeowners when they complained about paint colors.
“You’re not like I expected,” Tiernan said thoughtfully, drawing a finger over the dark red mark he’d left on Nik’s collarbone. The skin was still warm to the touch, and Nik raised an eyebrow in response to his statement.
“What do you mean?”
Tiernan rolled on top of Nik. The hotel’s bed sheets weren’t as soft as his, but they’d do. It was his last night in Florida before he headed back to Arizona for more training. Harder training, Coach said, since he was an Olympian now. He’d qualified in all his events — three chances to win a medal. It still didn’t feel quite real, but he guessed once he got down to training, it would be all he thought about.
Nik’s skin was soft and warm, body melding to his as he settled on top of him, sinking against his thighs. He wasn’t hard, not yet, but he could get there again, especially with the way Nik shifted under him and brought his hands to rest on his thighs. His touch was easy, familiar, comfortable.
Leaning in, he breathed in against Nik’s skin, pressing soft, slow kisses to his neck, enjoying the way Nik tilted back for him. Nik would probably let him do anything. The thought made his cock twitch, eager to go again.
“You’re far more aggressive than your demeanor led me to believe,” he murmured, sliding his tongue down Nik’s collarbone. Nik’s hand slid to the back of his head, tangling in his hair and tugging him up.
“This is the only time I get what I want,” he replied, drawing Tiernan’s mouth to his and kissing him deeply.
Arousal stirred deep inside Tiernan, warmth rising on his skin as blood pounded in his cock.
He had never really analyzed what had drawn him to Nik. He supposed it had to do with his dark, brooding look that was, in all honesty, a cover for the adorable puppy dog he was. He reminded Tiernan of a baby bird, a baby bird who was actually a full-grown eagle with talons ready to claw anyone who got in the way.
He liked how focused Nik was when he did his photography, how he went into some kind of professional mode and wasn’t the awkward college kid doing an internship. When Nik knew what he was doing, it was beautiful. Like right now, when Nik pulled him closer, fingers digging into the back of Tiernan’s neck and a groan escaped his lips.
“Tell me what you want,” Tiernan panted, pulling back from Nik and grinding his hips down into Nik’s half-hard prick. He watched Nik bite his lip and hiss out a breath.
Nik’s fingers dug into the back of his neck and he kissed him again, harder than before but shorter, too short.
Tiernan groaned, hands pressing to Nik’s sides, holding him steady as he ground down, their hips meeting in a glorious moment of friction that sent a jolt through his cock. He’d already fucked Nik once since he’d knocked on his hotel door that afternoon, but he could do it again. Fuck, he could do it a million times, if it meant Nik panting into his mouth when he came, grabbing at his hips to pull him in tighter, whining his name into the silent hotel room. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted to do that with someone, really wanted to.
Tiernan figured he deserved a reward. He hadn’t seen much of Nik this week at all, and he hadn’t had a single drink. He’d resolved to give up alcohol until after the Olympics were over; one less temptation to fuck it all up. Nik wasn’t that kind of distraction, though. Nik was something else he hadn’t quite figured out, but he liked it.
“What do you want, Nik?” Tiernan asked again, biting at Nik’s shoulder, drawing out a gasp, returning to his mouth for a biting kiss, slick and wet and sharp. “Tell me.”
“God,” Nik groaned, pressing his face to Tiernan’s neck as their hips met again, cocks rubbing together, too rough, too hot. “I wanna fuck you.”