Stick the Landing

by Kate McMurray

  The entire American gymnastics team had gathered here, including the women, including Chelsea, who, ever the disciplined one, drank water out of an officially branded Team USA bottle. She stood beside him and kept making comments about people in the crowd.

  Jake really wanted a beer. He hadn’t been able to get to the bar yet, because every time he stepped toward it, some other person appeared to congratulate him. He’d basically given up on getting anything from the bar, but he took another step toward it anyway.

  Then Topher appeared.

  Jake’s heartrate sped up. He hadn’t seen or heard from Topher since those kisses in the men’s room before the all-around. Conscious of his audience, Jake said, “Hi,” instead of jumping Topher on the spot.

  “Congratulations! You did something truly amazing today.”

  “I… thank you.” Jake’s instinct was to wave it off and downplay the compliment, but he had actually done something pretty amazing. “It still hasn’t really sunk in.”

  “Hey, Jake, want something from the bar?” Chelsea asked.

  “Yeah, I want a….” But she vanished before Jake got all the words out. “Beer.” He let out a breath. “So close.”

  Topher laughed. “Would you like me to get you a drink?”

  A woman Jake didn’t recognize hovered behind Topher and gave Jake a we-can-talk-when-he’s-gone gesture. Jake tried to give Topher sad puppy-dog eyes. “Yes, please.”

  Topher winked and pushed his way toward the bar. Jake reluctantly turned his attention toward the woman who wanted to congratulate him.

  Four other people had come up to talk to him by the time Topher returned with his beer. The crowd was starting to overwhelm Jake, and though he wanted to celebrate, he wanted to go hide somewhere with equal fervor.

  Topher looked around and then met Jake’s gaze. “If you wanted to step out of the crowd and further discuss our interview, it’s a little less crowded on the terrace out back. I think everyone’s only inside because it’s pretty muggy out and the AC in here is pumped up cold enough to freeze Miami.”

  “But the interview was just a… oh.” Jake smiled. He could see “discuss the interview” quickly becoming a private joke, perhaps a euphemism for making out in a bathroom, since they seemed to be good at finding ways to do that. “I mean, yeah, I would love to get out of here, but people keep trying to talk to me.”

  Topher smiled. “It’s so hard winning gold medals.”

  “It is, but I see you’re making fun of me, so I’ll let that slide.”

  Topher looked around again. “All right. The crowd is thinning a little, probably because all these swimmers have to swim again tomorrow and the shuttle back to the press hotel left already.”

  “Really? How are you getting back?”

  Topher waved his hand. “There will be another one in an hour, or Natalie and I can get a cab. I’m not worried about it. But we can break right through this nonsense. Follow me.”

  Like Moses parting the Red Sea, Topher raised his arms and suddenly the crowd gave way for him. Jake scrambled behind him, trying to use his body language to convey that he didn’t need anyone to talk to him right now, thanks.

  It was muggy and gross outside, hotter than Jake had remembered, but the terrace behind the America House was nearly vacant. Topher pointed to a little table, so Jake grabbed a chair and sat, grateful to be out of the crowd.

  “Dear God, it’s hotter than Satan’s asshole out here,” Topher said, waving his hand in front of his face.

  “But there are so many fewer people. I’d still take this over that.” Jake gestured back toward the door.

  “I am a creature of the cold,” said Topher. “I can’t deal with the heat. I spent most of my life on ice. Almost literally.”

  Jake smiled and settled into his chair. He was conscious that prying eyes and ears were everywhere, but he was too happy to be chatting with Topher to care much beyond keeping a safe distance between them.

  Then Topher produced a fan from his pocket and unfurled it. It was teal and had light pink cherry blossoms on it, with black lace trim along the top. It was quite a feminine fan, but also very Topher. Topher fanned himself and looked a bit relieved. “My hair gel is probably melting.”

  “You look fine,” Jake said. “I mean, you look fine. In both senses of the word.”

  Topher laughed, then glanced around. “Let’s not get caught,” he said softly. “This is a friendly business meeting.”

  “Sure it is.”

  “So how does it feel? Winning a medal for me, I mean.”

  Jake wasn’t quite ready to confess how exactly Topher had helped him out today, but he fingered his medal. “I won it for you in a symbolic way, just so you know. I’m never taking this thing off my neck.”

  “Fair.” Topher reached across the table and ran a finger over the ribbon. “It’s so pretty.”

  Jake didn’t want Topher to move away—he liked that Topher was close enough to kiss now—but he said, “We don’t want to get caught.”

  Topher backed away and looked around. “No, I know. Actually, let’s film something for the TBC social media account. Come here.”

  Jake slid his chair around to sit next to Topher as Topher got out his phone. He fiddled with the camera, said, “Smile!” and hit the record button.

  “Hey, America! I’m here at the America House in the Olympic Village with gold medalist Jake Mirakovitch, fresh off his win today at the individual gymnastics all-around. Say hi, Jake.”

  So Jake waved at the camera and said, “Hi!”

  “How are you feeling, Jake?”

  “I feel great! I still can’t quite believe it!”

  “What are you going to do now that you’ve won? Please say ‘I’m going to Disney World.’”

  “I mean, yeah, I think I should go to Disney World. I’ve never been, actually.”

  Topher scoffed. “Really? Oh, my God, you have to!”

  “Well, let me get through the event finals first.”

  “Think you’ll win more gold?”

  “I hope to keep this streak going, yeah. I’ve never had a competition like this before. I feel like I’m in the best shape of my life!”

  “I’ll be rooting for you, and I know our TBC viewers at home will too. Thanks, Jake!”

  “Thank you!”

  Topher stopped recording and lowered the phone. Then he grinned. “There. Plausible deniability.”

  JAKE WAS all smiles now that they were outside. He’d looked distressed as the crowd closed in around him, so although Topher wanted some time to chat with Jake uninterrupted, he was also happy to get Jake to a place he felt safer.

  “But seriously, though,” Jake said after Topher tucked his phone away again after posting the video. “My coach has gym time booked for many hours tomorrow, and then the event finals are Saturday. Most of the team is flying home on a chartered flight Sunday night, but I told my family I wanted to stay behind and see some events.”

  “And they’re letting you?”

  Jake rolled his eyes. “First of all, I’m twenty-six. Second, Chelsea is sticking around too, to do some stuff for TBC. Well, assuming she wins tomorrow, which she probably will. But she had so much buzz coming into these Olympics that she’s already kind of a media darling. So they’re paying her to do some fluff pieces.”

  “Oh, great.” Although Topher was a little irritated—why was Chelsea horning in on his gig?

  “My parents are flying home on the charter too,” Jake said, “but they want me to stick around Madrid to babysit Chelsea, basically. She’s an adult, though, so I’m just saying, I’ll have some time free.”

  “Interesting.” Topher leaned forward and waggled his eyebrows.

  “I had been planning to stay in the Village, but Chelsea wants to move to the press hotel, and I’m starting to think that might be a good idea.”

  “Why, Jakob. Are you implying that you have an entire week in Madrid in which you might be staying in the same hotel as a certain reti
red figure skater, and that you intend to sneak into his room at night?”

  “That is exactly what I am implying,” Jake said.

  Well, that was delightful news. “I like this plan a great deal, but you do realize that the hotel is crawling with press.”

  “I know.” Jake sighed. “I thought of that when Chelsea started trying to persuade me to move to the hotel. But I figure if we’re not caught in the common areas together, we’ll be all right.” He sat back in his chair and looked at the sky. “Or, I don’t know. This is clearly the peak right here. I don’t have a lot of years left in my career before my body falls apart. Definitely not another Olympics. Maybe I should retire on top and come out of the closet publicly. Or just not freak out about potentially getting caught.”

  Topher shook his head. “Let’s not be hasty. I waited until I retired to come out.”

  Jake raised an eyebrow.

  “I mean, I wasn’t kidding anyone, obviously. All this fabulosity is too much for a straight man.” Topher gestured at himself. “But I was dating this ice dancer from Calgary shortly after my retirement, and we wanted to go public. That relationship didn’t last, obviously, but the cat was out of the bag. Or the homo was out of the closet, as the case may be.”

  “Your family took it well?”

  “Oh, they all knew. Again.” Topher repeated the gesture toward himself. “And it was really just my mom anyway. Losing the gold medal was the tougher thing for her to deal with—it’s not cheap raising an elite figure skater. By the time I told her I was gay, she was basically like, ‘Oh, is that all?’”

  Jake nodded. “My father was weird about it at first, but he came around. He had this orthodox upbringing, but I think gymnastics exposed him to enough of the world that nothing much surprises him. And he essentially defected from the Soviet Union when he moved to the US permanently, so he’s got a rebellious streak in him. My mother was fine with it—she’s always been very supportive. She… oh, shit, here she comes.”

  “There you are, Jakob!”

  Svetlana Nikolaeva was a strikingly beautiful woman with long, light brown hair the same shade as Jake’s and a graceful, petite body. Topher had researched her a little; she’d been a rhythmic gymnast from the USSR before marrying Valentin Mirakovitch and giving birth to the two best gymnasts in the world. Interviews with various USA Gymnastics team members indicated she was kind of the team mom, always very encouraging and friendly.

  She gave Topher a wide smile now. Then she turned back to Jake. “We thought you went back to dorms.”

  “I needed some air. Mom, this is Topher Caldwell. He’s a retired figure skater doing some work for TBC. Toph, this is my mother, Svetlana Nikolaeva Mirakovitch.” Jake’s Russian enunciation was perfect, and Topher liked the way his mother’s name rolled off his tongue.

  Acting on a hunch, Topher said, “Nice to meet you,” in Russian.

  Svetlana squealed with delight. She said something back rapidly. Topher knew some Russian but not enough to follow what she was saying now.

  “She’s thanking you for greeting her in her native language,” Jake explained.

  “You’re fluent in Russian.”

  “Da. Of course he is,” said Svetlana. “You may call me Lana.”

  “Thank you, Lana,” Topher said in Russian.

  She smiled. “Jakob, please do not stay up very late. There is car coming at ten o’clock to bring you to broadcast center.”

  “I’ll head back to the dorm soon.”

  “We were just filming a little video for the network,” Topher said. “I can let him back inside to meet his adoring fans again now.”

  “Not necessary. I only needed to know where he was. Take your time.” She gave a little wave and went back inside.

  “That’s probably the sign I should go,” said Jake with a sigh.

  Topher nodded, feeling sad. “I may melt if we stay out here much longer anyway. Is my hair flat?”

  Jake looked at it and smiled. “No. It looks great.”

  “Good. Well, I—”

  “Text me,” Jake whispered. “Often. And if I can get away, I’ll meet you somewhere.”

  “There’s a men’s room at the broadcast center, you know. I’ll be there in the morning too.”

  Jake grinned. “I want to kiss you so bad right now.”

  “Hold that thought, sweetheart.”

  Topher looked around. No one was outside, and it really was face-melting hot out. Still, Topher stood and grabbed Jake by the shirt, then led him into the shadowy area under the overhang. One quick glance around verified again that they were alone. So Topher kissed the hell out of Jake.

  He wanted to take this further right now. Jake smelled like chalk and sweat, which was somehow totally doing it for Topher, and his clothes were soft over his hard muscles. Topher wanted to push Jake against the wall, rip his clothes off, press against him. Topher darted his hand to trail down Jake’s spine and over the curve of his ass; then he lifted Jake’s leg and moved to push Jake back, and—

  “Woah,” said Jake. “Not here.”

  Shit. It was too easy to let things get out of hand.

  “Which hotel are you at again?” Jake asked with a sly smile.

  “Are you serious?” asked Topher.

  “As a Soviet gymnast.”

  So Topher told him the name of the hotel, but he didn’t dare hope that anything would happen tonight.

  “I’ll see if I can sneak away, maybe wear fake glasses or something. Pull a Clark Kent.”

  Topher laughed, even though he was still uncomfortably aroused and half convinced he was dreaming all this. “I mean, only if you want to.”

  “Good Lord, I want to. I’m tired of just imagining what it would be like. I don’t have to compete tomorrow. Now is the time.”

  “I’ll understand if you can’t, but I’d love to have you tonight. And I mean that in every sense of the word.”

  Jake nodded. He gazed at Topher with lust in his eyes. Then he stole another kiss before returning to the America House.

  Topher sat outside for a few more minutes, trying to calm down, sipping his wine and looking at the night sky. Madrid may yet hold some magic, he thought. He smiled to himself. Then he pulled out his phone and texted Jake.

  I miss you already.

  It took a minute, but Jake texted back. Same. Then a minute later, he texted an eggplant and a peach emoji.

  Topher laughed. Was that a sext?

  Jake responded with a wink emoji.

  Then Natalie appeared. “Jake said you were out here. Are you… sitting here by yourself?”

  “I was with Jake until a few minutes ago. It’s unbearably hot out here, but I wasn’t quite ready to rejoin the masses.”

  “Most of the masses have gone back to the dorms to rest up for tomorrow’s competition. Are you ready to go? The shuttle back to the hotel leaves in about fifteen, so if we head out to the parking lot now, we should make it in plenty of time.”

  “Sure. Let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  WHEN HE walked back into America House, Jake was thrilled to discover that nearly everyone had left. Unfortunately his immediate family was still there. And although he couldn’t deny that he enjoyed being showered with praise by his parents and ate it all up with a spoon while Chelsea stood by looking a little put out not to be the center of attention, he was distracted by Topher and Natalie walking through the restaurant, likely toward the cab stand or shuttle stop. Jake really wanted to be leaving with them.

  After the elder Mirakovitches finally left, Corey emerged from the men’s room and offered to walk Jake and Chelsea back to the dorm. Unwilling to disclose anything about his sex life to Chelsea just yet, Jake had no choice but to go along.

  When he and Corey got back to their room. Jake shoved a change of clothes and a toothbrush into his backpack and said, “Well, I’m leaving.”

  “Hey, Jakey. I want you to have sex tonight, I do, but you do recall that you wo
n a gold medal today and therefore have to go on TV first thing in the morning?”

  Shit. Jake had forgotten. He pulled out his phone. According to his schedule, he didn’t have to meet the car until ten in the morning. “As long as I’m back here by eight, I should be okay.”

  “All right. But for the record, if you lose track of time and are a no-show for the car, I’m not responsible.”

  “Of course not. Why would you be?” Jake started to slide his backpack onto his shoulders but paused. “Wait, do you think I shouldn’t go?”

  “No, I think you should. I’m a little jealous, even, because I haven’t met any ladies I’d like to invite over since I’ll have the room to myself for the night. But go. Get yours.”

  Jake laughed. “Uh, thanks. Um. I’ll try to get back here early tomorrow morning. Please don’t… tell anyone. Not even Chelsea.”

  “No, I won’t. Have some fun, Jake. You deserve it.”

  Jake pulled a hoodie from his closet and brought the hood up to obscure his face.

  His heart pounded the whole way down to the lobby. He looked around when he got outside. He was terrified of getting caught, but it turned out Topher was staying at the same hotel as his parents, which meant Jake had a logical reason for going there. If he ran into Lana and Valentin, he’d have some explaining to do, but since Valentin was the type to go to bed early and usually woke with the sun, the odds of that happening were low.

  Still, he looked around as he asked the security guard to hail him a cab. A group of young men—swimmers, Jake guessed, based on their body type—were goofing around near the entrance to the building, but they seemed absorbed enough in whatever they were talking about that they didn’t seem to see Jake. So Jake slid into a cab when one arrived for him.

  He texted Topher: Please be in your room.

  The reply came slowly, but when Jake’s phone buzzed, he saw Topher’s response: I am. 305.

  Jake took a deep breath. I’m in a cab.

  Topher responded with a gif of some actor dancing excitedly.

  The hotel was on a busy block, the entrance sandwiched between two restaurants. Plenty of people were around, but they seemed to be locals or tourists, not athletes or the press. Happily, no one seemed to recognize him. He walked right through the small lobby and followed the signs toward the elevator without making eye contact with anyone.