“Well, the Olympics only come every four years,” Spencer said in Flynn’s defense. Which was why you didn’t fuck them up. “I get why he’s been pushing himself lately.”
“And so have you, Flynn tells us. He’s always kept up with what you were doing. Megan used to tease that you were his climbing crush, and I guess it was true.”
“Everyone knows it now,” Megan said. “It’s on the internet.”
“What?” Spencer glanced over at Flynn.
“It sort of came up at dinner last night,” he said with a shrug.
“You should read it.” Megan handed Spencer her phone. “Seeing as how you’re in it.”
Spencer stopped walking so he could concentrate on the screen. He hadn’t been online all day, not wanting to read the endless articles about how much no one had expected him to be in the finals.
“You don’t mind, do you?” Flynn hovered over him. “Ashley was being an ass, and then I sort of said you were my boyfriend, and Ashley was all ‘you’ll lose your sponsors’ and I was like ‘fuck my sponsors.’ Um”—he glanced at his mother—“I mean, I said ‘my sponsors aren’t going to care.’ Yours don’t care, right?”
“Mine have always known though.” He was still trying to read the article. It was accompanied by a picture of the two of them hugging at the speed climbing event yesterday and didn’t contain much text—just speculation and ‘a source said.’ The source would be Ashley. Anything he could do to rattle a competitor.
“But you don’t mind, right?”
Spencer glanced up from the phone to see Flynn looking unexpectedly nervous. Not about the article apparently, but about his reaction to it.
“Of course not. It’s nothing new for me. I just wish—”
“What?”
He wished the two of them were alone so he could very thoroughly yell at Flynn for fucking up his ankle and then kiss him even more thoroughly for coming out. For him.
“I just wish Ashley hadn’t taken the choice away from you.”
“I was going to do it anyway, after we talked about it. Maybe kiss you on the podium.” Flynn winked and started walking again.
Spencer handed Megan back her phone in a daze. He followed along at the tail end of the straggling group even though he had two healthy ankles. Imagine kissing his boyfriend on the podium. Imagine being on the podium. Imagine having a boyfriend. Imagine it being Flynn. But they were boyfriends, weren’t they? They’d introduced their families to each other. There was an article about them on the internet. And Flynn had maybe said he loved him.
He caught up to Flynn and grabbed his hand. “Did you take something for your ankle?” It was as close as he could come right now to saying I love you back.
20. Flynn
After a long dinner, Spencer’s mouth was dessert.
“Why are we kissing out here in the dark?” Spencer complained, separating himself as much as Flynn could bear, which wasn’t very much. “Come up to my room.”
“Don’t you have to go to sleep early?” He tugged Spencer back into him so he could nibble kisses into his neck.
Spencer’s hands floated up to his shoulders as he leaned back enough to bump their pelvises together, like he was snugging his hips into a climbing wall to adjust his center of gravity. “I can’t sleep at eight o’clock.”
“But you know what we’re going to end up doing if I come up. I doubt Pierre would approve.”
“I fired Pierre.”
“You what?” He stopped assaulting Spencer with his mouth so he could open it in a full gape.
“He’s a killjoy. I’m throwing all caution to the wind, going full-Flynn.”
“Really?”
“No, not really. Maybe half and half. But Roddy says it’s been scientifically proven that having sex with a dude the night before you compete improves your chances of winning. Because orgasms are relaxing.”
“Baby, if you’re serious, I will relax you so good.”
“It won’t bother your ankle?”
“What ankle? I don’t have any ankles. I’m all dick.”
“All right, dickhead.” Spencer started walking backward, dragging him along up the wide steps that led to his residence. “Let’s get you upstairs so you can lie down.”
“If I’m lying down on top of you, I’m all for it.” He rushed Spencer across the lobby and toward the elevator, paying no mind to the giggles coming from one of the couches. Let them giggle. Let them take pictures even. He was out now, apparently, so fuck it.
With their limbs hopelessly tangled through each other’s, they managed to get into the elevator, threading their way past the people coming out and claiming the entire car for themselves. The elevator ride disappeared in a too-short make-out session interrupted by the ding of the doors opening to a disapproving matron who was perhaps wondering if segregating the floors by gender was enough to make people behave.
Flynn gave her a wink as he separated from Spencer just enough to get him out of the car.
“Taking the elevator is so lazy,” Spencer observed as they traversed the hallway, still stuck together like a single organism.
“My ankle, remember?”
“Ooh, good answer.” Spencer unlocked the door and threw his badge on the dresser just inside.
“Let’s get you naked, handsome.”
“I should be taking care of you,” he protested as Flynn worked his clothes off, stopping after each piece to kiss and inhale the skin he’d unveiled.
“I want you in prime shape tomorrow. I’m expecting to see you on the podium.”
“I hate that you aggravated your ankle again. I was counting on you to beat Ashley.”
“Same though.” Really, really same. “So lie down. You don’t have to do anything tonight except let me love you.”
“Love me?” Spencer echoed, like he might almost want Flynn to do that.
“I will,” he promised. Forever and ever, if Spencer would let him. He guided him down onto the bed, taking only a moment to shuck his own clothes so he wouldn’t have to deal with them later.
Spencer’s erection hovered hopefully a few millimeters off his stomach. Flynn toyed with the foreskin, appreciating its masculine beauty, then added his mouth to the mix. That elicited a sharp inhale. Spencer’s fingers crawled restlessly down his thighs to tangle in Flynn’s hair.
“Love your hair so much.”
“Mm. Love you too. Love everything about you.” He teased Spencer’s sphincter with a saliva-slick finger and Spencer bucked up to meet him.
“Flynn! Wait. What… what are you going to do?”
“Fuck you. Is that okay?” He peeked up to see Spencer’s eyes squeezed tight.
“You’ll be gentle?”
“Pure relaxation tonight. I’ll rail you hard another night.”
Spencer gave a weak laugh that ended on a moan when Flynn pressed into him. “Something to look forward to.”
“We have everything to look forward to.” He almost wanted to stop to talk about it—about what their future could look like together, because he’d been working through some possibilities—but now wasn’t the time. Not when he had a hot and horny Spencer squirming on his finger.