Synchronised Motion (BoyxBoy)

Chapter 18

The warm-up is tough, a break from swimming has had more effect on my fitness than I thought it would. But I try really fucking hard to not let it show. To not show how much I'm puffing and how tired I already feel.

This isn't good, I'm dying and we ain't even half way through the session.

It's good to be back in the water, but I'm not enjoying it as much as I hoped, my mind occupied and fretting about the timed trials. Plus I'm distracted with how much Croissant talks to Oliver in the breaks.

I watched Croissant swim, yeah his name is not actually that and I'm a dick for calling him that in my head, it's stereotypical and lame, but I really don't like the guy. And Croissant is the nicest nickname I had in my head for him so...

The point is, he's good. Better than I'd like to admit.

Oliver tries to catch my eyes, I know it because I can feel the heat of his stare and Coach spews out the next instructions. But every time that heavy heat of his gaze settles on me, I'm suddenly very interested in the water.

Look at this water between my fingers. It's so nice and watery.

Watery? What the fuck?

I run a hand down my face, cringing at myself and feeling really stupid. I've been careful to not get too close to Oliver, at least I thought I did... But now I'm confused where we are at. I liked what we did. A lot. But I'm not in the business of letting people get close to me, and Oliver has gotten close enough.

Closer than anyone else.

What happens when he realises I'm not worth it? I'd rather not stick around for that part. So I ignore him. Pretend I'm really focused on my swimming, which I am. So I ignored the looks and nodded my head and took his comments without a bite. Probably the most tame and obedient I have been at training involving him telling me what to do. And for some reason he finds a lot of critiques on me today, more than usual.

But I underestimated him, I let my guard down. I wasn't expecting the ambush, at least not while I was getting up to go get a drink from my drink bottle at the stands.

"Beau, a word," Oliver grunts.

My eyes widen and I look for an escape. Oliver arches a brow and waits for me to resign.

I huff dropping my shoulders, dragging my feet over to him like a child in trouble. I refuse to meet his eyes. I can't meet his eyes. Unsure how to deal with the man who's seen so much of me. Basically seen me naked now. I turn red.

"Look at me."

I don't.

He hooks a finger under my chin and forces my head up, forcing my reluctant eyes to raise before dropping it. Oliver stands so his back is towards the swimmers, his large forming hiding me. To anyone on the outside, it looks like we are having a conversation, maybe Oliver bossing me around or some shit, It wouldn't be anything new.

"Why won't you look at me?"

I don't know what to say to that. Isn't that how this was supposed to work? Things go back to normal after our steamy session in the locker room. We go back to rivals, nothing more.

Right?

Oliver shakes his head, annoyed. "You just going to ignore what happened the other day?"

"..no.. yes.. I don't know?" I stumble over my words, eyes looking everywhere on his face except his eyes.

He grunts. "Maybe I would believe that—if you didn't stake your fucking claim on me." He spreads his arms out, exposing the art of bruises I did to his chest. I try not to flush further. "You made these hickeys visible—more than visible." He laughs darkly. "Everyone saw, just like you wanted them to. You want your mark on me? Stake your claim? Fine. Take it. Have it."