Stick the Landing

by Kate McMurray

  His heart raced and his skin tingled as he boarded the elevator.

  They were really going to do this.

  He looked both ways when he stepped off the elevator and was relieved that no one was in the hall. He found Room 305 and knocked on the door.

  Topher answered the door wearing a deep blue robe, likely something he’d brought from home and not from the hotel. The material looked soft, and it parted at Topher’s sternum to reveal he wasn’t wearing a shirt. His skin looked smooth and touchable.

  “You going to come in or are you just going to stand there gawking?” Topher asked.

  Jake blinked a few times to refocus and looked up to meet Topher’s gaze. Then he walked through the space Topher made when he opened the door wider.

  Doubt crept in, not for the first time that day. Oh, he wanted Topher, but how could this ever be anything more than a quick, athletic bout of sex? They had so little in common, at least on the outside. Topher had high maintenance written all over his body, but Jake could barely maintain himself during training. There was just enough of an age gap between them—five years, if Jake’s math was right, but that was an eon in sports—to give Jake some pause.

  And yet they understood each other. Jake had worried, as he’d lain awake in bed the past few nights, that Topher might resent him for finally getting the medals Topher had probably thought he’d deserved. Jake could no longer call himself the greatest gymnast in the world without an Olympic medal. He was the greatest male gymnast in the world, full stop, and had a medal to prove it now. He didn’t feel much ego about that, though.

  No, his greatest triumph had been finally breaking through whatever bullshit had held him back in international competition. The medals were nice, but that was the thing he was most proud of. And Topher had never had that opportunity. That was the thing with elite athletics—a competitor burned bright for a very short period of time, and then he or she was just the ashes of a promising career.

  That was grim.

  “I think a whole opera just played out in your head,” said Topher, gesturing Jake into the hotel room.

  “Sorry. Lots on the brain.”

  “Ah.”

  Jake looked around the room. It was nice, albeit small, and was dominated by a king-size bed that took up most of the space. And then there was Topher’s luggage. So much luggage. Jake generally liked to travel as light as possible.

  What was he even doing here?

  “Oh, honey,” Topher said, “I see the look on your face, and I recognize that you’re wondering if you made mistake in coming here. And I will just tell you two things.”

  Jake looked at Topher, who stood a few feet away, standing with his hip cocked.

  “First, I’m not asking you for any kind of commitment. I like you a lot, but I’m a realist, and I know what your training schedule must be like. And I know that I’m not moving to Texas, so let’s call this what it is—two men who like each other and want to bang.”

  Jake laughed despite himself.

  “Second,” said Topher, “you’re really hot, and I think you think I’m pretty sexy, so let’s just roll with that and not make it more than it is.”

  “Okay,” Jake said. “I can do that.”

  He’d done it enough times. He made it very clear to the men he went home with that he didn’t have time for commitment. He was no stranger to one-night stands. He viewed it as a release, an outlet, a place to put the sexual energy that burned through him, especially after a particularly good meet. This was something he knew, something familiar.

  Then why did it feel so different?

  “Do you have doubts?” Topher asked.

  “About you? No. About sex? No.”

  “Then what’s the issue?”

  Jake sighed. “I don’t know. It’s like I’ve forgotten how to do this. How do we even get started?”

  “Okay, I got you there.” Topher walked over to Jake and cupped his cheek. “You’re just confused because we’re not in a men’s room trying to squeeze all of our pent-up attraction into a thirty-second kiss. We have lots of time now, no?”

  “I have to be back around eight in the morning. The car to the broadcast center is coming to fetch me at ten.”

  “Ah, your star continues to rise. Still, that’s perfect.” Topher smiled, and it was so warm and genuine—and, wow, his teeth were really straight and white—that it did a lot to calm Jake’s nerves. “Okay, let’s start here.”

  Topher was not the tallest man Jake had ever been with, but he was still a few inches taller than Jake. So Jake turned his face up in anticipation, and Topher dipped to meet him, pressing his lips against Jake’s. Warmth spread instantly across Jake’s chest, relaxing him, reminding him what he wanted and what he was doing here. He reached up to cup the back of Topher’s perfect head and pulled him closer; then he opened his mouth to take in more. They nipped at each other’s lips, sliding against each other, and then Jake closed his eyes and licked into Topher’s mouth. Topher groaned in response.

  Jake moved his hands and put them on Topher’s waist, pulling him close. Topher was already hard, his erection pressing against Jake’s belly. If Jake needed a reminder of why he was here, it was that.

  Because Topher was so fucking sexy. The way he played with gender turned Jake on, there was no denying that, and Jake admired how Topher expressed himself, not seeming to care about what anyone thought of him. And he loved Topher’s body, graceful but strong—the body of an athlete who had once been at the top of his game.

  Jake wanted to strip Topher of all his makeup and hair gel and frills to see the man underneath.

  “Is it wrong,” Jake asked between nibbles at Topher’s jaw, “that I’m worried about messing up your hair.”

  Topher barked out a laugh. “It’s fine, darling. Please mess it up. I want you to.”

  “Can it even be messed up? How do you get it to poof up like that?”

  Topher took a step back and reached up to fiddle with his hair. He extracted a little pad from the pompadour; then he grabbed a spray bottle from a dresser and spritzed his hair with water. There was a towel nearby that Topher grabbed and rubbed over his head. His hair tumbled down around his face, the strands in front a few inches long, falling near his cheekbones.

  “I honestly don’t mind if my hair gets messed up. It’s for a good cause.”

  Jake couldn’t help but smile at that. “I like your hair.”

  “Good.”

  Jake reached over and ran his fingers through Topher’s damp, slightly sticky hair. He had a ton of questions about how Topher managed to style it that way, but now didn’t seem like the right time to ask them.

  Topher kissed Jake again and nudged him toward the bed. Jake took the hint and let himself tumble back onto it. He lay on his back, propping himself up on his elbows.

  “Take off your clothes.”

  Jake didn’t need to be asked twice. He hated the sound of the fabric of his warm-up pants rubbing against the bedspread, for one thing, but also, he was eager to get naked with Topher before he lost his nerve again. He toed off his sneakers, pulled off his hoodie, and shucked his pants, leaving him in just a pair of blue briefs.

  Topher stood staring for a moment, which felt gratifying.

  Then Topher, with his eyes on Jake at all times, undid his robe and let it slide off his shoulders. It pooled at his feet and revealed the only other thing he’d been wearing—a pair of black briefs that weren’t doing a lot to hide his excitement.

  Topher climbed onto the bed. Jake smiled and took Topher into his arms.

  “Your body is killing me,” Topher said. “I’ve never been with a gymnast before.”

  “I’ve never been with a figure skater.”

  “This old thing?” Topher gestured at himself.

  Jake leaned back and took a solid look at Topher in his seminude glory. His body was as lean and strong as Jake had surmised. He wasn’t in peak condition anymore, nor should he have to be this far from his retirement,
but he still had a solid chest, defined pectoral muscles, six-pack abs, and sturdy thighs. Topher likely still worked out regularly—it was hard to quit cold turkey—and his body showed it. But Topher had a grace too, long limbs and piano-player fingers, smooth gestures and those crazy long eyelashes. He also had an angry-looking scar near his rib cage, a surgical scar on his knee, and who knew how many old injuries that weren’t even visible. “What happened here?” Jake asked, drawing a finger along the scar on Topher’s torso.

  “Oh. It looks worse than it is. There was a tussle during a warm-up at my training rink. Another skater whiffed a landing and kind of fell on me, then I tumbled into another skater, and the three of us got all tangled up on the ice. One of them got me with a toe pick. I needed a few stitches, but of all my sport-related injuries, that one was pretty minor. Ironic that it left the worst scar.”

  Topher ran his gaze along the length of Jake’s body. “I’m surprised you don’t have more scars.”

  “Broken bones and concussions, mostly.”

  “Jesus.”

  “I have mats to land on. I don’t want to think about falling on ice.”

  “Lesson one is learning how to fall so you don’t injure yourself too badly. But I also bruise like a peach. I think part of the reason why the women wear such thick tights is to hide all the bruises on their thighs. I certainly always had a few during the season.”

  Jake nodded. “You have to put everything you have into it in order to be the best.”

  They stared at each other for a long moment. Jake didn’t want to talk. They were both naked and close to each other. The heat from Topher’s body warmed Jake. So why were they talking about old injuries?

  “I’m sorry we’re not having sex right now,” Jake said, running a hand over Topher’s shoulder. “I don’t know why I’m so up in my head. I’ve got a mostly naked man in my arms and it’s like my body forgot what to do.”

  “Let me help you with that, then.”

  Topher leaned over and kissed Jake, then ran a hand over Jake’s chest, sliding his palm over Jake’s nipples. He moved that hand along the side of Jake’s torso, over his ass, then pulled at his thigh to drape his leg over Topher’s hip. Their still-clothed cocks lined up, rubbed together, and a zippy thrill went through Jake. He felt like his body suddenly came online, like his reptile brain was finally starting to take over from his more logical brain.

  Jake ran his hands down Topher’s back. It wasn’t all smooth skin; Jake’s fingers found bumps from old scars there too. Just here and there, reminders that Topher had participated at the top levels of what could be a dangerous sport. Jake cupped Topher’s asscheeks and pulled him close, grinding against him, their erections rubbing together. Topher growled somewhere low in his throat and thrust his fingers into Jake’s hair. He nibbled at Jake’s lower lip, then pressed their lips together fully again.

  Jake surrendered to it. He tried to shut off his brain and just be in this moment with Topher. His body tingled with arousal, and Topher’s pale skin was flush with it too. Jake loved kissing Topher, loved the pressure and plumpness of Topher’s lips, loved the way Topher tasted.

  “I want to see all of you,” Topher murmured against Jake’s skin.

  Jake slid back, hooked his thumbs into his briefs, and slid them off. He spread his legs for Topher as he tossed the briefs on the floor. Topher’s expression looked like that of a man who’d just been served a gourmet meal. He took Jake’s cock in his hand and stroked it a few times. Arousal zipped through Jake, and his hips jumped off the bed as he leaned into Topher’s touch.

  “My, my, Mr. Mirakovitch. This is quite impressive.”

  “Let me see you,” Jake said, grabbing the waistband of Topher’s briefs. He could feel the heat of Topher’s skin, the smooth hardness of Topher’s cock where it pressed against the fabric. And when Jake revealed it, he was not surprised to see that Topher’s cock was as long and thin as he was.

  Jake had to taste it. He peeled Topher’s briefs off and kissed the tip, then took Topher’s cock into his mouth.

  Topher made a noise that was somewhere between a hiss and a sigh. Jake pinned Topher’s hips to the bed and sucked as much of Topher’s cock into his mouth as he could, relaxing his throat. Jake might not have had great amounts of sexual experience, but he knew what he was doing, and he wanted to pull out all the stops with Topher, make him feel good, make this night unforgettable.

  If this was the only night they had together, he wanted it to be amazing.

  Jake wrapped his hand around Topher’s balls and ran a thumb over the skin there, making Topher writhe. He started to snake his finger toward the entrance to Topher’s body, but then Topher jerked and said, “No, wait.”

  Jake pulled away and looked up at Topher. “Too much?”

  “You are quite good at all that. But if you touched me there, I would have come immediately, and I don’t want that yet. Because then I might be done for a while. I’m not as young as I used to be.”

  Jake grinned and slid up to lie beside Topher once more. He grabbed Topher’s face and pulled him in for a kiss. Topher moaned into Jake’s mouth and put his hand on Jake’s hip, pulling Jake closed despite what he just said.

  “I want you inside me,” Topher said.

  “I want that too. I, uh, brought a few condoms.”

  Topher smiled and looked delighted by that. “Look at you.”

  Jake laughed. “They pretty much hand them out like a coach gives out criticism in the Olympic Village. I’ve been collecting them in case I got this opportunity with you.”

  Topher smiled, probably remembering his own past experiences in Olympic Villages. All those young people in peak physical condition sharing a space meant there were bound to be sexy times. Jake smiled back at Topher, then bent over the side of the bed to grab a condom from his pants pocket.

  Topher climbed over him and pulled something from the nightstand drawer. They briefly tangled, which gave Jake a moment to taste the skin on other parts of Topher’s body. His hip was right there, that scar near his rib cage, then his armpit. Jake pressed his nose there and inhaled. Topher smelled amazing.

  And hey, Jake was an athlete. He figured growing up in a gym had probably wired him to find the smell of men’s sweat particularly alluring.

  Topher wriggled away from Jake and stretched himself out on the bed. Then he handed Jake a bottle of lube.

  “Good thinking,” Jake said.

  “It’s from my in-case-of-emergencies stash.”

  “This is definitely an emergency.”

  “Definitely. I want you inside me right now. Urgently. Siren dot gif.”

  So Jake didn’t waste any more time. He took the lube from Topher and smeared some on his fingers. Then he did what Topher hadn’t let him do before—slid his fingers behind Topher’s balls to the entrance to his body. Topher kept his legs spread wide and tilted his hips up to give Jake better access.

  Topher seemed beside himself with arousal, unable to keep his hips still as he thrust back against Jake’s hand. His cock was hard and red, already leaking. Jake bent his head to lick the tip of it again, and Topher made an incoherent noise. Jake loved how responsive Topher was, how he was already coming apart, but he needed Topher to last long enough for Jake to do what he really wanted.

  When Jake was satisfied Topher was ready for him, he rolled on the condom, smeared more lube on himself, and got on top of Topher. He positioned himself, then pressed forward. Topher hissed and threw his head back.

  “Tell me to stop if you need me to,” Jake said.

  “Don’t you fucking dare stop,” said Topher, putting his hands on Jake’s ass and pulling him further into Topher’s body.

  Topher was ridiculously tight. His body squeezed against Jake’s cock, and the sensation was exquisite, perfect. It had been long enough since Jake had had sex with anything but his hand that he didn’t think he’d last very long. But maybe that was okay, because Topher made some otherworldly noises as Jake bottomed out
in him. Then Jake began to move, and Topher clutched at Jake’s shoulders and said, “Oh God.”

  “That’s what I want to hear,” Jake said. He dropped his head and kissed Topher, who returned his kiss with enthusiasm and slid his hands up Jake’s back. Jake thrust in and out, the tightness and friction of Topher’s body making him feel like they might make a fire. And maybe that’s exactly what they were doing. Sweat dripped from Jake’s hair, and Topher’s skin was becoming slick, and all they could do was rut against each other and moan, pressing each other to find their releases.

  “Holy…,” Topher said. “I don’t want to… but I’m… gonna come….”

  “Yes,” Jake panted. “Come for me.”

  Jake grabbed Topher’s cock and stroked it, pressing his thumb into that spot right below the head that caused magical things to happen. Topher bucked against Jake, squeezing his muscles and making Jake worry about embarrassing himself by coming too fast.

  But then Topher’s eyes rolled back in his head and he cried out. And suddenly he was spilling all over Jake’s hand and Topher’s own belly. His body clamped down on Jake, and that was it. Jake surrendered to it, clutching at Topher as he came, shooting into the condom and letting out a long moan.

  As he came back down, he found himself lying on top of Topher and feeling slightly sticky.

  “Christ,” said Jake.

  “You mumble in Russian when you’re really worked up,” Topher said.

  “I do?”

  “Has no one ever pointed that out to you before?”

  “I’m guessing no one else I’ve been with recognized it. How good is your Russian?”

  “I can hold my own in a simple conversation.”

  Jake lifted his head and met Topher’s gaze. In Russian, he said slowly, “That was amazing, and I can’t wait to do it again.”

  Topher grinned. In Russian, he said, “Same.”