Medley

by Layla Reyne

  “You said you regretted leaving me. We could give it another shot, like Alex and Dane did.”

  “I said I regretted how I left, not that I did. We’re not Alex and Dane. They never had a first shot. We did, and it didn’t work out.”

  “And you’re going to take a shot on him? You think that’ll work out?”

  “I am, and I do,” Bas said, squeezing him tighter. “Because Jacob’s willing to take a shot on me.”

  Jacob curled a hand over Bas’s forearm and glanced over his shoulder, meeting warm blue eyes. “I won’t make you sorry.”

  “I’ll try to return the favor.”

  “Espo,” Alex said, joining them. Ever the diplomat, he held out a hand to the other swimmer. “Good luck today.” Polite, yet dismissive.

  In the face of their united front, Julio surrendered. “Same to you,” he said, before heading back to where Team Spain was gathered.

  “We’re going to beat his ass in the pool today, right?” Alex asked.

  “That’s the plan,” Bas said.

  “Pup, you good?” Alex asked.

  “I won’t let you down.”

  “Never thought you would.” Alex clapped his shoulder. “We’re on deck in five.” He gave it another pat, then ventured back to their row of lockers, where Dane was leading a chorus of “U-S-A” chants. Jacob turned to join them, but Bas kept him caged in his arms.

  “Hey, it’s just me here,” he said. “You really good?”

  “I’m good.” Jacob closed the distance between them for a kiss.

  Bas pulled back first and leaned their foreheads together. “You know there’s no competition, right?”

  “In the pool?” Jacob said. “He doesn’t stand a chance.”

  Shaking his head, Bas claimed Jacob’s hand and placed it on his chest, right over his heart, like Jacob had done last night. “No, I mean here. You win.”

  The earlier stolen kiss didn’t compare to the one Jacob laid on him then, pouring every bit of his settled, confident feeling into Bas too.

  “I believe you,” Jacob whispered against his lips. “Now, I’m ready to win the other competition too.”

  The four of them entered the Madrid Aquatic Center together, arms draped over each other’s shoulders, the last medley relay team to make their entrance. And an entrance it was. The crowd went wild, shouting and whistling, while the other squads on deck glared. From the press box, cameras flashed at top speed, and neither Alex nor Jacob, on either side of Bas, flinched, their heads held high. And Dane, on the other side of Alex . . . well, Dane did what Dane did best and smiled even wider.

  Bas smiled wider too. This was it. For all the marbles. And for Bas and Alex and Dane, at twenty-six, it could be their last Olympic event, ever. Barring injury, Jacob would be back in four years, and Bas would happily cheer him on from the stands. But right here, right now, Bas soaked in the thrill of competition and reveled in the fact he was playing at the highest level of the sport he loved.

  With the three best men he knew. His squad. His brothers and his lover.

  They gathered behind lane three, ignoring, as best they could, the dark looks from Julio’s Spanish squad a lane over.

  Coach stepped in between them, cutting off the rivals teams’ view. “Huddle up.”

  They closed their circle, heads together, Coach standing between Jacob and Dane. “Anything else I need to say here?” His dark eyes bounced to each of them.

  “No, Coach,” Alex said.

  “Go time,” Bas added.

  “Gold time.” Dane grinned.

  “Pup?” Alex said, eyeing Jacob across the circle.

  Jacob squinted one eye, hitched one side of his mouth, and in full pirate accent said, “Aye, Aye, Captain.”

  Their chants of “U-S-A” in the huddle matched the chants of their fans, including the rest of the men’s and women’s teams in the stands. The roar only grew louder with team introductions. And louder still—deafening—when, as Team USA was introduced, Alex pulled Dane in for a back-bending kiss. Camera’s clicked, catcalls were shouted, and Alex smiled against Dane’s lips bigger than Bas had ever seen. His best friend wasn’t one for flash and show—that was Dane’s specialty—but Bas figured he was making a statement, an exclamation point on the signed papers Bas’s mother had sent over. Alex was happy, proud, and for once, enjoying himself. Bas was one hundred percent behind it, waving his arms and amping up the crowd.

  Because if Alex was this confident, this loose, they were going to win. He had no doubt. Jacob knew it too, smiling at him with eyes so bright Bas considered putting on a similar display. But that wasn’t them. Not yet, at least. What was them was Bas yanking the pup into a headlock and knuckling his head.

  “No competition,” he whispered in Jacob’s ear, dropping a kiss there that no one would see with his dreads down. Jacob slipped the hold, laughing.

  As intros finished, Bas tied up his dreads, wrangled them into his cap, and strapped his goggles on, resting them over his brow. When the bell rang for swimmers to get in the water, Bas stepped to the side of the pool with Alex. Most swimmers jumped in themselves. But dating back to their days at SC, Bas always gave Alex a hand down into the pool. It was their routine—solidarity and friendship, no matter the situation.

  “Proud of you,” Bas said, holding the hand clasp.

  Alex curled his hand tighter. “Proud of you too.”

  “You remember your promise?” Bas said.

  “We win gold, I finally get a tattoo.”

  “Holding you to that.”

  Alex nodded. “Do your part, and I’ll be there.”

  “Count on it.” Bas released Alex’s hand and stepped back, slapping the deck to rile up the crowd some more.

  It was so loud in the arena, the “Swimmers, take your mark” announcement was nearly drowned out.

  Alex grabbed the bar at the bottom of the block, braced his feet against the wall, and hauled himself up into starting position. Dane leaned over, slapping the block. “Smoke ’em, babe.”

  The horn blew, Alex arched off the wall, and did just that. Swimming at world-record speed when he tapped the far wall, it seemed barely a blink before he was halfway down the return lap.

  “All yours, Pup,” Bas said, with a tap to Jacob’s ass that, if anyone cared to look, lingered a little too long.

  Jacob smiled over his shoulder as he lined up on the block, beautiful body coiled, ready to launch.

  Alex’s fingers slammed the wall beneath the block, and Jacob was off, the exchange perfect. He was just as beautiful in the water as he was out of it. Missing the heat yesterday hadn’t dulled him in the slightest. If anything, he was swimming with more power and speed. He was earning it, his spot, even if no one asked him to, proving it to himself as much as anyone. And maybe also proving it to Julio, who Jacob left in the dust at the turn, setting a blistering return pace.

  Bas stepped up on the block, getting into position, eyes locked through his goggles on Jacob. Each time his lover breached the water’s surface to breathe, Bas inhaled with him. Breathing together like they’d trained. Like they had in the alley in Vienna, like they had in bed together yesterday, like they had in the shower this morning.

  In time, here, together.

  Bas didn’t have to think about the exchange. It was timed to perfection.

  He hit the water clean and came up arms wheeling, legs kicking, breath still in sequence with the pace Jacob had set. And for the first time in four years, Bas swam without weight. No worry, no regret, no fear. Just pure instinct driving him. Happiness, for himself and Jacob, for Alex and Dane, pushed him faster. He touched the far wall, turned, kicked, and looked under the water to either side. Nothing. He was smiling as he came back out of the water, eyes dead ahead, locked on Jacob, who was pounding the deck next to Dane getting ready on the block.

  Those fiery mint dimes brought Bas the rest of the way home, his fingers crashing into the wall as Dane sailed overhead.

  Big Red full-throttle w
as a sight to behold. The fastest swimmer in the world, swimming like he had nothing and everything to lose. Bas couldn’t tear his eyes away as Jacob and Alex hauled him out of the pool. Hanging over their shoulders, he gulped for breath and watched the master at work. Dane’s turn was a full half second ahead of everyone else and well under Olympic and World record pace.

  Alex slid out from under Bas’s arm, going to the edge of the pool and putting himself right in Dane’s line of sight. Impossibly, Dane swam faster. Like he hit another gear no one knew he had. Bas held Jacob tighter, remembering that feeling from seconds ago. The need to get home.

  Dane was at the wall in a blink, torso breaking the water, gasping for air and ripping off his cap and goggles. Alex was half in the water, arms looped over his neck, pointing at the clock. The time registered, and Bas punched the air with his raised fist.

  Gold.

  With Olympic and world records.

  And with Jacob by his side, staring up at him, victorious and happy.

  Beautiful.

  Bas’s tattoo parlor had never been so packed. Nor so festive.

  Alex and Dane had moved out from Colorado the day after Christmas and spent the past week ignoring the moving boxes in their new place by stringing all manner of New Year’s decorations around Bas’s. Both in the shop and in his apartment upstairs.

  “Gotta make a good impression for the pup,” Dane had said, grinning as he and Alex bustled around. A giant red-headed elf hanging gold and silver streamers and tinsel, while his dark-haired Santa washed the sheets and left lube and a Costco-sized box of condoms on the freshly made bed.

  Not that Bas didn’t appreciate it. He had plans to put the bed and condoms to good use. It’d been October since he’d seen his boyfriend—a trip out to Texas for Jacob’s birthday—and no amount of Skype or FaceTime calls since could make up for the real thing.

  And it was real.

  Bas believed that now, about Alex and Dane, and about him and Jacob. Five months ago, he’d been running as fast as he could away from Jacob, trying to protect them both, and now all he wanted to do was run to him, the safest place for both of them. He wanted Jacob in his arms again, under him, writhing. So what the fuck had made him think it was a good idea to invite the whole team here and delay their reunion?

  Oh right, he hadn’t thought that. Dane had, and as was his way since that night he’d come out to the team, he’d rallied everyone behind him. A New Year’s party for the squad, a housewarming for him and Alex, and a chance for Bas to ink their team tattoos. Even Mo was flying out, through Vegas, where he’d connected on the same flight with Jacob. They’d sent Bas a selfie from the plane—Mo ruffling the curls his boyfriend had grown back, at Bas’s urging. Bas couldn’t wait to weave his fingers through the dirty-blond tangles, draw Jacob’s face in close, taste his—

  “Mind out of the gutter, Stewart.”

  Bas looked up from the table of supplies he was preparing and glared at his best friend. “I’m wishing evil thoughts on your boy right now.”

  Alex leaned against the chair, hands splayed. “You could have said no.”

  Bas’s gaze skated over Alex’s shoulder, to Kevin and Mike pulling bottles of champagne out of the fridge, to Leah, Sean, and Natalie standing nearby chatting, to their other teammates wandering around, talking and admiring the tattoo designs that covered the shop walls. They weren’t all getting inked tonight, that’d be too much work, but they’d be in town for the week, dropping in and hanging out, celebrating their victories. And tonight, on New Year’s Eve, celebrating the end of one year and the start of the next.

  No, he couldn’t have said no. Bas wouldn’t have wanted to pass this up. Or the chance to hold Alex to his promise. Bas accepting Dane’s party idea was as much about peer pressure as anything.

  “You really going to let me ink you?” Bas said.

  “We made a deal, didn’t we? We won the gold.” Alex crossed his arms, fingers digging into his biceps. Yes, they’d made a deal, but obviously Alex still didn’t like the idea. Terrified of needles, he’d avoided the tattoo tradition through college and the last Olympics.

  “We did make a deal,” Bas said. “But I know this—” he lifted the tattoo machine “—is not your idea of fun.”

  Alex shook his head. “We’ve won, in the pool and out of it.” Smiling, he glanced over his shoulder at Dane, who was at the center of the melee up front. “We’ve all conquered fears this year,” he said, turning his dark eyes back to Bas. “Think it’s time I conquered my last one too.”

  Bas walked around the end of the chair and yanked his best friend into a hug. “All right, then. You wanna go first? Get it over with?”

  Alex paled but nodded. “Think that’s probably best.”

  “You are the captain.” Bas grabbed the tattoo machine and slapped Alex’s shoulder. The sound was echoed up front by the pop of champagne corks.

  “What are you fools doing?” Alex shouted, sounding exactly like Coach. “You’re not supposed to do that until everyone is here.”

  Sean lifted his arm, the one not curled around Natalie, and pointed at the door. “Everyone is here.”

  Bas had missed the jingle of the doorbell, its tinkling muffled by the crowd noise. Teammates parting, Bas saw Dane and his mentor, Mo, clenched in a hug. The door closed and out from behind them stepped Jacob.

  Motionless by the chair, Bas swept his eyes over his boyfriend. Dressed in jeans, a hoodie, and the I am the Real Dread Pirate Roberts T-shirt Bas had given him for his birthday, Jacob looked beautiful and rested, not strung out like he had been in October, juggling Bas’s visit with midterms. Things were good at home with his family too, Bas knew, from their nightly calls.

  Eyes trained on Bas, Jacob smiled big, flashing his adorably crooked front teeth. Standing there, his face lit with the twinkling Christmas lights Dane had strung and the flashing neon Tattoo sign in the front window, Jacob looked at home.

  In Bas’s home.

  This was the start of their story.

  Alex slipped the tattoo machine from his hand and slapped his ass. “Go.”

  Bas made it two steps before Jacob dropped his bags and lunged, slamming into him and going right for a kiss. Bas ignored the whistles and catcalls of his teammates, enthusiastically returning his boyfriend’s greeting.

  “I missed you,” Jacob mumbled against his lips.

  “I missed you too.” Parting, Bas framed Jacob’s beautiful face in his hands, thumbs brushing over scruffy cheeks. “It’s good seeing you here.”

  “It’s good to be here.”

  More champagne corks popped. “Let’s get this party started,” Dane declared.

  The team cheered in agreement, and Jacob dropped another quick kiss on Bas’s lips. “Work fast,” he said, eyes heating.

  “You got it.” Bas turned and took the machine back from a grinning Alex. “Cap’s up first.”

  Party winding down, Jacob snuck into the dressing room at the rear of Bas’s shop. Back turned to the mirror, he untaped the bandage and admired the new ink on his right delt. The same style as his other tattoo, this one—a red, white, and blue war eagle with Olympic rings stretched between its wings—was an ode to their captain’s Mexican-American heritage and also to the war they’d waged to finally get the gold. It was meaningful and perfect, something he could show others with pride, just like his Longhorn tattoo. Josh had been right. The ink had drastically increased Jacob’s coolness factor this past semester. Or maybe that had more to do with his three Olympic medals. Or his gorgeous boyfriend who’d shown up midsemester and whisked Jacob away to his hotel room between exams.

  Just thinking about that week—a whirlwind of torturous midterms, Bas making sure he ate and slept, and then, when his tests were over, torture of a different, much better, sort—made Jacob’s already hard problem even harder.

  Jacob wanted that again, the glasses of champagne he’d guzzled before straddling the tattoo chair only adding fuel to the fire. But he didn’t want
to pressure Bas, who’d worked for hours on the first round of team tattoos. Instead of worrying about where his dick was going to go, Jacob should be massaging the broad shoulders that had started to slump under the ink-stained T-shirt, or helping pull up the dreads that had come loose from Bas’s topknot, or making a run to In-N-Out for food.

  He glanced down at his tented jeans. Er, maybe not yet.

  “All right, all right.” Dane’s extra-long, champagne-slurred drawl echoed from the front of the shop, as did the answering laughs. “Let’s get out of here and leave the lovebirds to it. Brunch at our place in the morning.”

  “I can’t promise it’s unpacked,” Alex added.

  According to Bas, it wasn’t unpacked at all, except the kitchen. For Dane’s home cooking, Jacob would gladly eat off boxes. Hell, he’d even help unpack a few.

  “Anyone need me to write down the address?” Alex said.

  “You emailed it to us, Cap,” Sean replied, as the bell over the front door jingled, again and again, the team filing out.

  “Night, Pup,” Dane hollered.

  Jacob poked his head and arm out from between the dressing room curtains, waving. “See you tomorrow.”

  He slipped back into the dressing room, fixed the bandage on his delt, and unbuttoned his jeans, attempting to fix something else. Only to have the curtain wrenched open midadjustment. Jacob’s eyes darted up and met Bas’s in the mirror, just as they had that night five months ago. Different mirror, different color on the walls and curtains, but Bas’s eyes were the same blazing blue as they had been then.

  “Problem?” he asked.

  Jacob’s confidence, between then and now, was also radically different. He still blushed, no help for that, but he made no bones about his invitation. “Not uncommon, I understand. Want to help me solve it?”

  Bas accepted the invite, closing the distance between them and laying a hand on his back. “Pull it out,” he rumbled in Jacob’s ear.

  Pushing his jeans and boxers down, waistbands half over his ass, Jacob reached his other hand in and freed his cock, stroking himself and letting his boyfriend see what he’d done to him.