Jacob braced his hands on either side of the locker room sink, staring at himself in the vanity mirror. He didn’t look much different than he had yesterday. A little less like a Chia Pet, a little more well rested. He and Bas had lazed in bed this morning, until Alex had beat down the door, summoning them for lunch and tape duty. Bas had told Alex to give them five, then they’d taken ten to jerk each other off in the shower before facing the world again.
And the world is what it sounded like inside and outside the locker room tonight. Aside from open water, medley relay was the last swim race at the Games, the main event. All the teams were packed inside the locker room, cheering on their medley relay squads. Outside, the crowd noise was loud enough to rattle the walls. Despite the ruckus, Jacob felt settled, different, even if he didn’t look it.
And not just because he’d lost his virginity last night.
After weeks on the bumpiest roller coaster he could have imagined, he’d finally reached the smooth-sailing part. His father looked better every day. He and Bas were together, on the same page, going the same direction. And his team had given him another shot. Between Bas’s words yesterday and this morning and watching tape with the guys this afternoon, of their competition and of their own prior practices, Jacob recognized how well they swam and worked together. He believed he was the best breaststroke swimmer for them tonight.
He could help them win.
They would win.
“Burrows.”
Jacob shifted his gaze a mirror over, to the reflection of the man who’d tried, and failed, to push him off the rails. “Julio.”
“Final race today.”
Turning, Jacob folded his arms over his puffed out chest. “And we’re going to win it.”
“Awfully confident.”
“We’re the best.”
Hip to the adjacent sink, Julio twirled his goggles around his index finger. “Didn’t look the best during prelims yesterday.”
Jacob wanted to wipe that smirk he’d once thought charming right off the Spaniard’s face. “Because I didn’t swim, no thanks to you.”
“I wanted to be sure you knew what you were getting into, with Bas.”
“No, you wanted to be sure I didn’t get into anything with him. Now, I want to know why.”
A familiar rough hand landed on Jacob’s left hip and a body he’d come to know intimately fit itself close behind him. “Yeah, explain, J,” Bas said.
Julio straightened and squared his shoulders. “I was just trying to save you both from where this is headed.”
“You have no idea where it’s headed,” Bas said.
“I know where we went.”
“You want to go back there, don’t you?” Jacob said, putting it together. “You started this to fuck with me, and to get revenge against Bas, but ‘things changed.’” When Jacob had let on that Bas had already left him, Julio had altered his approach. “You wanted another shot with him, didn’t you?”
Julio’s gaze drifted over Jacob’s shoulder to Bas. “You really think you can make this work? He’s still a kid, with two years of school left. And you’d be competing with men and women for his attention. You’d know what you’re getting with me.”
Bas’s arm circled Jacob’s waist, tugging him fully back against his chest. “I know what I’m getting with him too. Someone like me. I’m good with that. With him.”
“You said you regretted leaving me. We could give it another shot, like Alex and Dane did.”
“I said I regretted how I left, not that I did. We’re not Alex and Dane. They never had a first shot. We did, and it didn’t work out.”
“And you’re going to take a shot on him? You think that’ll work out?”
“I am, and I do,” Bas said, squeezing him tighter. “Because Jacob’s willing to take a shot on me.”
Jacob curled a hand over Bas’s forearm and glanced over his shoulder, meeting warm blue eyes. “I won’t make you sorry.”
“I’ll try to return the favor.”
“Espo,” Alex said, joining them. Ever the diplomat, he held out a hand to the other swimmer. “Good luck today.” Polite, yet dismissive.
In the face of their united front, Julio surrendered. “Same to you,” he said, before heading back to where Team Spain was gathered.
“We’re going to beat his ass in the pool today, right?” Alex asked.
“That’s the plan,” Bas said.
“Pup, you good?” Alex asked.
“I won’t let you down.”
“Never thought you would.” Alex clapped his shoulder. “We’re on deck in five.” He gave it another pat, then ventured back to their row of lockers, where Dane was leading a chorus of “U-S-A” chants. Jacob turned to join them, but Bas kept him caged in his arms.
“Hey, it’s just me here,” he said. “You really good?”
“I’m good.” Jacob closed the distance between them for a kiss.
Bas pulled back first and leaned their foreheads together. “You know there’s no competition, right?”
“In the pool?” Jacob said. “He doesn’t stand a chance.”
Shaking his head, Bas claimed Jacob’s hand and placed it on his chest, right over his heart, like Jacob had done last night. “No, I mean here. You win.”
The earlier stolen kiss didn’t compare to the one Jacob laid on him then, pouring every bit of his settled, confident feeling into Bas too.
“I believe you,” Jacob whispered against his lips. “Now, I’m ready to win the other competition too.”
The four of them entered the Madrid Aquatic Center together, arms draped over each other’s shoulders, the last medley relay team to make their entrance. And an entrance it was. The crowd went wild, shouting and whistling, while the other squads on deck glared. From the press box, cameras flashed at top speed, and neither Alex nor Jacob, on either side of Bas, flinched, their heads held high. And Dane, on the other side of Alex . . . well, Dane did what Dane did best and smiled even wider.
Bas smiled wider too. This was it. For all the marbles. And for Bas and Alex and Dane, at twenty-six, it could be their last Olympic event, ever. Barring injury, Jacob would be back in four years, and Bas would happily cheer him on from the stands. But right here, right now, Bas soaked in the thrill of competition and reveled in the fact he was playing at the highest level of the sport he loved.
With the three best men he knew. His squad. His brothers and his lover.
They gathered behind lane three, ignoring, as best they could, the dark looks from Julio’s Spanish squad a lane over.
Coach stepped in between them, cutting off the rivals teams’ view. “Huddle up.”
They closed their circle, heads together, Coach standing between Jacob and Dane. “Anything else I need to say here?” His dark eyes bounced to each of them.
“No, Coach,” Alex said.
“Go time,” Bas added.
“Gold time.” Dane grinned.
“Pup?” Alex said, eyeing Jacob across the circle.
Jacob squinted one eye, hitched one side of his mouth, and in full pirate accent said, “Aye, Aye, Captain.”
Their chants of “U-S-A” in the huddle matched the chants of their fans, including the rest of the men’s and women’s teams in the stands. The roar only grew louder with team introductions. And louder still—deafening—when, as Team USA was introduced, Alex pulled Dane in for a back-bending kiss. Camera’s clicked, catcalls were shouted, and Alex smiled against Dane’s lips bigger than Bas had ever seen. His best friend wasn’t one for flash and show—that was Dane’s specialty—but Bas figured he was making a statement, an exclamation point on the signed papers Bas’s mother had sent over. Alex was happy, proud, and for once, enjoying himself. Bas was one hundred percent behind it, waving his arms and amping up the crowd.
Because if Alex was this confident, this loose, they were going to win. He had no doubt. Jacob knew it too, smiling at him with eyes so bright Bas considered putting on a similar display. But that wasn’t them. Not yet, at least. What was them was Bas yanking the pup into a headlock and knuckling his head.
“No competition,” he whispered in Jacob’s ear, dropping a kiss there that no one would see with his dreads down. Jacob slipped the hold, laughing.
As intros finished, Bas tied up his dreads, wrangled them into his cap, and strapped his goggles on, resting them over his brow. When the bell rang for swimmers to get in the water, Bas stepped to the side of the pool with Alex. Most swimmers jumped in themselves. But dating back to their days at SC, Bas always gave Alex a hand down into the pool. It was their routine—solidarity and friendship, no matter the situation.
“Proud of you,” Bas said, holding the hand clasp.
Alex curled his hand tighter. “Proud of you too.”
“You remember your promise?” Bas said.
“We win gold, I finally get a tattoo.”
“Holding you to that.”
Alex nodded. “Do your part, and I’ll be there.”
“Count on it.” Bas released Alex’s hand and stepped back, slapping the deck to rile up the crowd some more.
It was so loud in the arena, the “Swimmers, take your mark” announcement was nearly drowned out.
Alex grabbed the bar at the bottom of the block, braced his feet against the wall, and hauled himself up into starting position. Dane leaned over, slapping the block. “Smoke ’em, babe.”
The horn blew, Alex arched off the wall, and did just that. Swimming at world-record speed when he tapped the far wall, it seemed barely a blink before he was halfway down the return lap.
“All yours, Pup,” Bas said, with a tap to Jacob’s ass that, if anyone cared to look, lingered a little too long.
Jacob smiled over his shoulder as he lined up on the block, beautiful body coiled, ready to launch.
Alex’s fingers slammed the wall beneath the block, and Jacob was off, the exchange perfect. He was just as beautiful in the water as he was out of it. Missing the heat yesterday hadn’t dulled him in the slightest. If anything, he was swimming with more power and speed. He was earning it, his spot, even if no one asked him to, proving it to himself as much as anyone. And maybe also proving it to Julio, who Jacob left in the dust at the turn, setting a blistering return pace.
Bas stepped up on the block, getting into position, eyes locked through his goggles on Jacob. Each time his lover breached the water’s surface to breathe, Bas inhaled with him. Breathing together like they’d trained. Like they had in the alley in Vienna, like they had in bed together yesterday, like they had in the shower this morning.
In time, here, together.
Bas didn’t have to think about the exchange. It was timed to perfection.
He hit the water clean and came up arms wheeling, legs kicking, breath still in sequence with the pace Jacob had set. And for the first time in four years, Bas swam without weight. No worry, no regret, no fear. Just pure instinct driving him. Happiness, for himself and Jacob, for Alex and Dane, pushed him faster. He touched the far wall, turned, kicked, and looked under the water to either side. Nothing. He was smiling as he came back out of the water, eyes dead ahead, locked on Jacob, who was pounding the deck next to Dane getting ready on the block.
Those fiery mint dimes brought Bas the rest of the way home, his fingers crashing into the wall as Dane sailed overhead.
Big Red full-throttle was a sight to behold. The fastest swimmer in the world, swimming like he had nothing and everything to lose. Bas couldn’t tear his eyes away as Jacob and Alex hauled him out of the pool. Hanging over their shoulders, he gulped for breath and watched the master at work. Dane’s turn was a full half second ahead of everyone else and well under Olympic and World record pace.
Alex slid out from under Bas’s arm, going to the edge of the pool and putting himself right in Dane’s line of sight. Impossibly, Dane swam faster. Like he hit another gear no one knew he had. Bas held Jacob tighter, remembering that feeling from seconds ago. The need to get home.
Dane was at the wall in a blink, torso breaking the water, gasping for air and ripping off his cap and goggles. Alex was half in the water, arms looped over his neck, pointing at the clock. The time registered, and Bas punched the air with his raised fist.
Gold.
With Olympic and world records.
And with Jacob by his side, staring up at him, victorious and happy.
Beautiful.