“You see?”
“It took me three tries though.”
“Worrying about how many attempts you’re taking is killing you. You’re so determined not to fall off, you can’t feel the move. Embrace the inevitability of failure.”
“Is that how it works for you? Not giving a fuck allows you to Zen your way up the wall?” For someone who’d just conquered the bouldering problem he’d been working on for twenty minutes, Spencer didn’t seem very happy.
“I’m just saying that worrying about success doesn’t contribute to success. At least for me. I get all tense, and then I can’t feel the rock. Or the plastic stuff. You know what I mean. Here, try this one.” He waved at one of the other problems on the slab wall that’d been set up specifically for the Olympians to train on. “Take a learning attitude instead of a succeeding attitude. See what happens.”
Spencer got that one on the second try. He raked a chalk-covered hand through his hair, giving himself a streak of white, then dropped down on the mat with an exhausted huff. This was Flynn’s favorite part of bouldering—hanging out on the mat between attempts.
“I don’t think you’re as bad at this slab stuff as you think you are.”
“No, you’re right. I’m too focused on the results, not enough on the moves. Maybe that’s why my bouldering’s been going backwards this year. The harder I work at it, the worse I get.”
“You’re the very definition of trying too hard.” He wished he could pull Spencer into his arms and kiss the determination off his face, but they were conspicuous here, surrounded by people with phones at the ready. Better to save the kisses for more private moments. Instead, he offered encouragement as Spencer ran up one boulder problem after another, working his way down to the steeper end of the wall.
Mika was just a little thing, but she could jump like a flying squirrel, and she was putting on a clinic over in the steep section where they’d started. They all stood back to watch her nail a jump, latching onto the finishing hold at the precise instant when momentum and gravity cancelled each other out so she seemed to hover like a hummingbird, absolutely effortless.
Flynn stepped up to try the same jump. His longer wingspan gave him an advantage, but he could tell he’d made it look difficult. Spencer, who didn’t have either his reach or Mika’s fairy wings, needed a couple of tries to nail it. But Ashley, even with his reach, couldn’t get it, no matter how much he grumbled and growled and brushed the holds to remove the buildup of chalk from them. They all had their strengths—which meant they all had their weaknesses—and Ashley’s difficulties with this kind of move were so legendary, they’d once been immortalized in a meme with the caption “Tall climbers can’t jump.” He had a lot of reach and insufficient practice getting to holds that were beyond it.
“You want to know what I do?” Janco asked him.
“Not even a little,” Ashley answered. He stalked off to sulk, not joining them again until they were ready to leave.
Dinner was accompanied by too much sake. Everyone was in a good mood by the time they got back to Athletes Village, even Ashley. Flynn certainly was. Loose and easy, happy to have climbed and to have spent the afternoon with good people, looking forward to getting Spencer away from all those good people. He walked him to his residence, lingering with him outside the door.
“It’s late,” Spencer said. People moved around them in the darkened quad as they scuffed their feet against the pavement like two embarrassed boys.
“Does that mean I can’t come up?” He’d been waiting all day to get Spencer alone.
“It means you probably shouldn’t.”
“Okay.” Patience, he told himself. One move at a time. “What’s on the agenda for tomorrow then?”
“According to Pierre, I’m supposed to be lead climbing. He doesn’t seem to understand that I don’t have access to a facility to do it in. Good thing lead climbing is my best event. You could use some clipping practice though.”
“Truth.” He didn’t climb with a rope very often. Boulder problems were short enough, and the mats thick enough, that it was safe to just drop, wonky ankles aside. But for lead climbing, a rope was essential, and that meant clipping it through the protection points as you climbed past them.
“I guess we can do some resistance training in the fitness center,” Spencer said. “I’ll be glad when Pierre gets here. He can scope out the situation for himself instead of yelling at me by email.”
“I’d rather have you coach me than Pierre though.”
“Today you were the one coaching me.”
“I liked that too. Ashley’s right about one thing. If we could combine our climbing skills, we’d be unstoppable.”
“Yeah, it’s probably good for me to climb with someone whose style contrasts with mine so radically.”
“So maybe we could do it more often? Even outside of the Olympics?” Flynn brushed their hands together, trying to make his fingers say what he meant.
“Maybe we could.”
With more courage than he’d ever needed to climb, Flynn darted forward and pressed his mouth against Spencer’s, then turned and left before he ran out of the patience he’d been reminding himself to have. As he walked across the quad to his own residence, his mind full of the man he’d just left, he came up with an idea for how to give Spencer what he wanted. Because he wanted to be the guy to do that.
9. Spencer
Flynn boggled his mind. He could be so irresponsible, so thoughtless, and then he’d go and do something like this.
Spencer added his climbing gear to the pack Flynn had borrowed—the pack that was already stuffed with everything they needed to go lead climbing outside, all of which Flynn had somehow managed to acquire since saying goodnight last night.
“Come on,” Flynn urged, watching him as he turned in circles around his room trying to figure out whether he’d forgotten anything. Rock shoes, chalk bag, harness. Two water bottles. Snacks. It’d been so long since he’d climbed on real rock, he almost couldn’t remember how it was done.
“Oh, ibuprofen.” He added a bottle to the zippered pouch on top of the pack.
“Took some with breakfast, boss.”
“I know, but you should be taking it every four hours.”
“I’d rather be taking you.” Flynn snagged his hand and used it jerk him closer. And there was the subject they’d managed to avoid all day yesterday until Flynn dropped that goodbye kiss and disappeared before Spencer could figure out how to respond.
“Maybe we should talk about this,” he said now.
“Later.” Flynn lowered his head and kissed him, his strong arms possessive around him, until Spencer lost interest in talking. He almost lost interest in climbing. He hadn’t invited Flynn up last night because he hadn’t known if Roddy would be there and also because it’d been bedtime according to his schedule, but now he regretted his choices. They could’ve been doing this last night, sucking each other down like cold water on a hot day.
Flynn’s phone dinged, and for some stupid reason he stopped kissing Spencer to look at it. “Car’s here. Come on, we have to get out to the parking lot before our driver gives up on us.”