On the positive side, nobody at the climber table was moping in sullen silence anymore. They were all talking—mostly about him—but some of the guys who’d been eliminated were revisiting the idea of going out to Tsuzura-iwa tomorrow, the difficulty being that most of them hadn’t packed any outdoor climbing gear.
“There’s a bouldering spot right outside of Tokyo,” Flynn suggested. “Place called Mitake. Beautiful location along a river. All you’d need for gear is a couple of bouldering pads.”
“Easy by train,” Mika said. “But I no can take tomorrow.”
“I’ll play tour guide.” He’d hoped to have some time with Spencer tomorrow, but between Spencer’s family and his coach, it seemed unlikely he’d get any. “I can show you a few of the classic lines. The last time I was here, Shino was working on a boulder problem that’s still waiting for a first ascent.”
“Yeah, maybe we can poach it from him,” Janco said with a laugh, because if Shino hadn’t been able to climb it, probably none of them could, but it was always fun to try.
Not that Flynn would be doing any climbing himself. Of course not. That would be irresponsible. He would just go along and show the other guys a good time. Fun in the sun, pulling down on real rock just for the joy of it. Not for him—he would dutifully take a rest day—but there couldn’t be any harm in watching.
17. Spencer
Spencer had never been so glad to see his family and so simultaneously ready to be rid of them at the same time. He was overwhelmed that they’d come, ecstatic that their trip had been worth it, dazed from the day’s events, and horny. Adrenalin surged through his veins, making him want a steak, but he stuck to his diet plan or at least as close as he could stick to it while ordering from a previously unseen menu with his stepmother prodding him to “eat because you must be so hungry.”
He was hungry, not having had anything except energy bars since breakfast, and he couldn’t suck down water fast enough, even though he’d been trying to stay hydrated. The heat and the crowds and the nerves and the thrill—it’d all taken its toll. All he wanted to do was fuck out the last of his adrenalin, then drop into a deep sleep for the next ten or twenty hours.
“You seemed pretty friendly with that American boy,” his mother said when the bustle of ordering had died away.
“Flynn,” he supplied automatically.
“Isn’t that the one you used to text with? From California?”
He couldn’t believe she remembered that. Had he been so obvious?
“Shame he couldn’t join us,” she said, arching an eyebrow at him. “We’d have liked to get to know him.”
Yeah. He understood why Flynn had begged off. They weren’t boyfriends. Flynn wasn’t even out. But the bond that had started to form between them was still new and thin. It felt like a moment’s inattention might cause it to snap.
“Maybe we can find him after dinner,” he suggested.
“I don’t know about anyone else,” his father said, “but I’m going straight to bed after dinner. I’m too old for sixteen-hour time shifts.”
“And I’m sure you want to celebrate with your friends,” his stepmother added. “Don’t you worry about us.” And then, he swore, she winked.
If his family was conspiring to get him in bed with Flynn, who was he to argue? And they were definitely drooping—even his teenaged stepsiblings who were of an age where clocks couldn’t tell them what to do. So when they’d finished eating and his father had vanquished his stepfather in their customary fight over the check, which was the only time they ever demonstrated any animosity toward each other—but, boy, did they demonstrate it hard then—Spencer gave them all a hug and watched them walk away.
His residence was in the other direction from their hotel, and he wasted no time heading there, his feet flying over the pavement so fast he was practically running. Night had fallen, the stars were out, and the air was warm but crisp, pleasant against the bare skin of his arms but too warm for the jeans and polo he’d worn to dinner.
There was a convenience store in Athletes Village, which he detoured into to pick up lube. Condoms were available everywhere, but the Olympic committee hadn’t put much thought into the more specific needs of gay men. He snagged a bottle of the good stuff, only remembering as his fingers closed around it that he hadn’t made any arrangements with Flynn yet. All his plans were in his head. So he paid for the lube with one hand while he jockeyed his phone into position with the other.
Flynn answered on the first ring. “Hey, handsome.”
“Where are you?”
“Heading back to my room.”
“Well, head to mine. I mean, if you want.”
“If I want? I’m literally outside your door.”
“Really? Shit. I’m not there yet myself.”
Flynn laughed. “No, not really, but I will be. See you in a few. Oh wait, do you have—?”
“I have everything we need. Just hurry.”
He stopped to grab a handful of condoms from the bowl in the lobby, accepting the desk clerk’s sly look of admiration. Flynn came bursting through the front door while he was waiting for the elevator and crashed into him with an embrace that went way beyond the standard bro hug.
“Eager much?” Spencer teased, tugging Flynn into the elevator with him.
“Eager tons.” Flynn pushed him up against the wall and went straight for his lips.
Flynn was already hard, like he’d managed to run over there with an erection. His curls were light and bouncy and his mouth tasted like mint. Spencer’s probably tasted like chicken teriyaki, but he opened wide and let Flynn have it, pushing back against him as hard as Flynn was pushing into him. He needed this, needed the fervor that was almost like a fight, needed strong hands gripping him everywhere and soft curls under his fingers.
“I brought lube,” Flynn said as Spencer yanked him down the hallway.
“I told you I have everything we need.”
“Yeah, but guys with foreskins don’t use lube for jerking off, right? So I wasn’t sure.”
“We use it for fucking.” He stopped and pulled Flynn into him, leaning back against the door to his empty room. Was it awful to be glad Roddy had lost? “Is that what you still want?” He nuzzled into the corner of Flynn’s neck, his breath coming so heavy his head spun. “It’s okay if you’d rather—”
“Fuck, Spencer, can we please go inside so you can fuck me already?”
For a horrible moment Spencer thought Roddy had returned, but it was only a towel draped over the closet door. He shut the door hard, and then they were alone. He pulled the bottle of lube out of one pocket and the condoms out of another and threw them all on the bed.
Flynn whistled.
“We don’t have to use all of them,” Spencer said as he stalked closer to Flynn, “but let’s see how far we can get.”
“I’m not going to be able to walk tomorrow, am I?”
“You got somewhere to be?” He’d been planning to invite Flynn to breakfast with his family, but Flynn derailed that by telling him he was going out to Mitake tomorrow.