Page 152 of Dickathlon

By the end, my adrenalin was so high. I passed the lead runner before the final hundred meters and I had nothing left in the tank when I crossed the finish line. I had done it.

I bent at the waist, wrists on my knees, trying to catch my breath. With the squeeze of a large hand on my shoulder, I stood back up and was met by Asher with a big hug. It wasn’t official, but I had likely won and I was pretty sure he medalled as well.

I willed my breathing to slow down. I could feel tears building, knowing the payoff of years of dedication was likely coming. No one had ever defended the gold medal successfully. The stadium was a blur, but Asher brought me back to reality.

“You did it, Dec! I know you did!”

We watched the scoreboard, waiting for the results.

Yes!

I pulled Asher back in for another hug. He came in second!

“I’m so proud of you!” I said into his ear.

“You’re one to talk, Declan. You made history tonight!” He pulled back with a smile and waved to the crowd.

It felt like the sun had exploded inside of me. I was living my dream. I accepted hugs, handshakes, back pats and more from the rest of the field, and Yuri eventually found me and draped an American flag over my shoulders. I thanked him for all his support. I waved to the crowd, showing them my thanks for their support, their cheers.

We took a group photo for the swarm of photographers, but my mind was somewhere else. I was looking for Ty. He was wearing his pink shirt again, according to his Instagram story.

If my life were made into a movie, this shot would’ve been filmed. The celebratory decathletes parted in front of me as I looked into the stands and we made eye contact with each other at the same time. He had made his way down the aisle as close to the field as possible. A grin broke across his face immediately and mine soon followed as I ran across the lanes.

I could see the cameras following in my periphery, but I didn’t care. I was already out. This wasn’t going to surprise anyone.

He held his arms forward as I scooped him up and pulled him over the barricade.

“Whoa! I didn’t think I could come onto the field.”

“I don’t think they’re going to say anything to me.”

“Right. You were amazing, by the way.”

I pulled him closer. “I'm so glad this is in London and not east bumfuck Europe so I can do this.”

I moved my hand into his hair and pushed his mouth against mine. Clearly, I surprised him as I could feel his smile, though it gradually went away as our tongues met.

Ty pushed against my chest, breaking the kiss. “If we keep going, I’m going to cum standing right here,” he whispered into my ear.

I chuckled. “I take back what I said. Even if we were in east bumfuck Europe, I'd still do that to you.”

“I hope so. It was good.”

“I can do better.”

A flicker of lust played across his face. “Is that a pinky promise?”

I shook my head. “It’s a fucking guarantee.”

My response was met with a laugh that turned into a fit.

“What? What’d I say?”

“Think about it, Dec.”

When I continued to struggle, he said, “Your guarantee. What kind of guarantee was it?”

Oh. A fucking one.