Pool Boy - 4. Chapter 4

Pull, pull, pull, turn and breathe, pull, pull, pull….

Marcus thought of nothing, just the speed, the distance, and the chill of the water around him as he swam. He was exhausted, he was cold and hot all at once, his muscles ached with the burn of anaerobic exercise because there wasn’t enough time to breathe properly and go fast, but somehow he found the energy to keep going. He made the turn, pushed off against the wall, and pulled more strength out of some secret stash and cut through the water with ever more power. He was still accelerating when his palm hit the flat ledge of the pool side, and the world around him erupted. Marcus was desperate to breathe, but he didn’t want to leave the solitude of the race for the cacophonous masses up above, and he sank below the surface. Splashes and ripples around him appeared where other competitors were finishing and removing themselves from the pool and Marcus knew all eyes would be on his lane. Then he opened his eyes at the sensation of movement to find Tiago under the water with him, bringing him a smile and a kiss made of oxygen. Marcus clung tight to his boyfriend beneath the waves, and then rose as they parted, and allowed himself to be hauled from the pool by the rest of his team.

“YEAHHH! There’s our boy!”

“I knew you could do it! What a show, Pony!”

Marcus let himself be pulled into Harper and Eric’s solid embrace, then Tiago was behind him, whispering love into his ear, the air was full of applause and cheering, and Marcus realised he’d won. In the ring of his teammates, his boyfriends, he raised his arms and shouted wordlessly in victory.

The coach slapped him on the back and wrapped a towel around him just as Marcus realised he was shivering. Other swimmers, already mostly dried off, shook his hand with a range of expressions of the gracious loser. The guy in second place looked pissed, and nodded tightly across the space between them as Marcus lost himself under a towel, his hair scrubbed by his captain even as Eric helped him into his sweatshirt. Just as the coach was praising his technique, a klaxon sounded, and Marcus stared up at the judges in trepidation. He knew he hadn’t done anything wrong, but the bottom had fallen out of his stomach as the head judge rose.

“We have an announcement. Marcus Browning has just set a new record for the fifteen-hundred meter freestyle! No student has ever swum faster! Congratulations to Marcus and the team from Ball State!”

The noise was immense; even the teams and swimmers he’d beaten cheered and shouted for him. Marcus blushed and hid behind Tiago’s broad brown back until Eric grabbed him under one thigh, Harper took the other, and they hoisted him onto their shoulders. Marcus used the opportunity to stroke the back of Eric’s hair, grounding himself with the familiar texture of the man he loved as every person in the stands cheered for him and his new record. He’d swum as hard as he could for slightly over fifteen minutes, thirty lengths of the Olympic pool, and he couldn’t imagine ever being so tired again, but as Eric and Harper put him down he was vibrating with energy.

“Eat this.” Marcus took what he was handed, half inhaling a handful of jelly beans before stuffing the energy bar into his mouth. “Drink.” Harper took the bottle from him when it was nearly empty and replaced it with water. “Crumbs.” Marcus wiped his face on the towel and grinned at his captain. “Go get a big gold medal, there’s a good boy.”

“Yes Captain.”

“Put on a good show for us, Pony.”

“Yes Captain.” Marcus’s grin was huge, but it wasn’t for winning the race. He knew that later, he was going to get everything and anything he wanted from the men he loved.

Second and third place were already waiting for him as he stepped up the plinth in his still-damp trunks and half open sweatshirt, and he smiled at the judge, bowed his head for the medal to be placed around his neck, shook hands, then held it up and waved to the stands. There were a few minutes of press photos, but the coach answered most of the technical questions about training schedules and dietary choices, and Marcus simply thanked a lot of people and told several reporters he felt great before the coach called a halt and told him to go hit the showers. The team was waiting for him with more high energy sports drinks and snacks.

“I don’t know how those endurance swimmer guys do it,” Marcus managed between bites of chocolate as he walked. “I swear I’m never swimming that far again.”

“Yeah you are, babe.” Tiago smiled at him. “You’re gonna have to do it every time now.”

“Wait… what?” Marcus stared at his boyfriends with a crestfallen expression.

Harper’s grin was the broadest.

“You broke a national speed record, Gorgeous. They aren’t gonna wait until you graduate, the National team and all the big clubs are going to be calling coach and wanting you.”

“I told you he was more part-fish than even the Captain is,” Eric boasted to no one in particular. “You’re a star, Marc.”

“But, what if I can’t ever do it again?”

“Remember the first day we met, at try outs?” Harper looped an arm around his waist as he steered Marcus into the shower. “You remember what I said we were looking for?”

“Speed and stamina.” Marcus replied crisply as Tiago started the water. He didn’t know if it was a good idea to tell his boyfriends he had replayed every moment of that first meeting in his head more times than he could count, every word, touch, and expression inked indelibly into his mind.

“A rare and expensive combination.” Eric purred. “You’re gonna be the Secretariat of the swimming world.”

“You did good, babe.”

“Thanks Tiago.”

“Now get in the damn shower before you freeze, and we’ll take you out for dinner.”

“Can I have ribs and wings?”

“Sweetheart, you can anything you want.” They turned to leave, because early on they’d established that making out in the showers at meets was a stupid idea, and it was better not the risk temptation. It was Eric who stopped at the doorway with an impish grin.

“Can I tell him now?”

“Tell me what?”

“Go on then,” Harper agreed.

“We found a house!”

“Wait! What?” But they’d already gone.

Screw being tired and shaky and so fucking exhausted he couldn’t move: Marcus had never had a quicker shower.

*

Marcus loaded his suitcase into the truck Tiago had borrowed from a friend so they could move into the house, and hopped back up to the stairs to get his last bag. He glanced around at the blank little dorm room, but already he was finding it hard to remember where his things had been. He hadn’t really ever lived there: it had been a place where he’d slept, and none too often, and Marcus wasn’t sad to say goodbye. He reached into his bag for the little velvet pouch he’d hidden there, and weighed it in his hand. It was heavy, clinking gently in his palm, comforting in its solidity. Marcus slipped the pouch back into the bag, hoisted it on his shoulder, and waved to a few of his hallway friends as he passed for the last time. His boyfriends were waiting for him, hanging out of the truck windows, all of them grinning like the sun shone from their sides.

“Show Pony!”

“Hey Little Fish!”

“C’mon Marc!”

Marcus shook his head and grinned at them.

“I still have to go back to the Accommodations Office and drop off my key.” He dangled the little slip of steel from his finger. “I’ll walk. Meet me on the field by the Arena?”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I bet I can beat you there too!” Marcus didn’t wait to listen to their cries of disbelief, but took off running across the campus. He knew his teammates would have to take a longer route, and deal with the traffic on McKinley Avenue, whilst he could cut through the buildings and take the shortcut through the parking lot behind the Arena.

He still hadn’t seen the house. Harper thought he was slightly mad, and Eric had asked if the pressure of breaking the freestyle mile record and the subsequent phone calls asking him to come and train with other teams had given him too much stress, but Tiago understood, smiled, kissed him and told the others not to worry, and it was time for them to put on a show for their boy. So Harper had overseen all the paperwork, Eric had been there for the installation and delivery of the bed Marcus had chosen, and Tiago had assured him there were indeed cushions on the couch. The boys had told him the house was perfect, and Marcus believed them. He dropped the key at the office and signed a few papers officially releasing him from his lease and redirecting his bills from the school to the new house, and jogged over the field just as his lovers pulled up on the opposite side. Marcus half leapt into the door which was opened for him and flung his arms around Tiago’s neck.

“I’m ready now.”

“You guys realise we’re gonna spend the rest of our lives doing everything on his schedule, don’t you?” Eric laughed.

Harper rubbed Marcus’s shoulders from the back seat as Tiago pulled away.

“You know, I kinda like the sound of that.”

It was only ten minutes in the truck to the house, and Marcus jumped out onto a bright street of mostly unfenced grassy lawns and white boarded single storey houses. Marcus tapped his fingernails over the top of a slightly rusty mailbox, already decorated with four sets of stick on names, and grinned up at the house with the wide porch and broad steps leading to the front door.

“After you, Beautiful.”

Marcus turned on the lowest step with a frown.

“You guys just wanna stare at my ass.”

He was answered with a series of happy nods.

After that Marcus all but ran through the house, chased by his lovers, and the four of them crashed together onto the Texas King sized bed.

“I’d forgotten how big this was!” Marcus gasped, as Harper began to kiss his collarbone, rolling up his shirt at the same time.

“I’d not.” Eric grinned cockily, hands opening his own fly. “Go make him whimper for me boys.”

Harper and Tiago stripped him with quick efficiency, and Marcus let himself be laid out on the bed, Tiago pulled his hands up to grip the bars of the headboard behind the pillows as Harper knelt between his thighs. The bed was plenty huge enough for Eric to lounge alongside them, casting his gaze over the tableau they were creating. Harper snuck a bottle of lube out from under the bed with a happy grin, slicked two fingers and slid into Marcus’s tight sheath without warning. Marcus arched his back at the sudden invasion, every muscle taught until the Captain stroked his prostate and he fell, supine once more against the mattress with a groan.

“Mmmm… that’s good. Does he feel great Cap?”

“Just as fucking fantastic as the first time,” Harper replied, holding Marcus’s gaze as he spoke. “Our Show Pony knows how to look after us.”

“Tia my love,” Eric stroked a hand down the Latino man’s thigh as he spoke, “give our boy here something to do with that pretty little mouth. We wouldn’t want to disturb the neighbours now, would we?”

Marcus craned his head to look up at his boyfriend, but Tiago had gotten naked whilst he was distracted, and Marcus instantly opened his mouth to swallow him down. He inhaled the clean, citrusy scent of his boyfriend, and looked to Eric as he started talking and giving instruction in a husky tone at least an octave lower than his usual speaking voice.

“That’s beautiful. Good boy, you take all that in. Such a pretty mouth…. Mmmm… Feed him your cock Tia, ohhh… there’s good Show Pony. What do you think Cap, is he ready for you now?”

“Mmm hmmm.” Harper’s eyes were glazed with lust and adoration, and Marcus felt his heartbeat pound at the sight of the Captain drunk on love and ready to screw him senseless.

“Make sure he’s not too loud, Tia.”

Tiago pushed into him deeply, Marcus’s nose brushing against his pubic bone just as Harper withdrew, lined up, and ploughed into him in one smooth stroke. Never mind scream, Marcus could barely breathe, and he whimpered with pleasure and fullness and no small amount of discomfort as he was manhandled. Harper fucked him for what seemed like forever, Eric’s litany of smooth instructions and descriptions serving to keep all them right on edge until they came within moments of each other. Eric took Marcus in hand alongside himself at the same moment, and Marcus had the rare pleasure of watching their mixed emission splatter across his boyfriend’s super smooth abs. They fell back, panting and kissing, and Marcus realised the bed had been the best thing he’d ever bought.

“Please tell me the bathroom is bigger than a postage stamp?”

“It even has a window babe.”

After cleaning up, Marcus left the three of them horsing around under the water and went to collect the little pouch from his bag. He’d been buying presents too, and he thought it was high time he gave them away. The boys returned to find their lover sitting crossed legged in the centre of the enormous bed, looking serious.

“Marc?”

“Everything OK, darling?”

Marcus chewed his lower lip for a moment.

“Do you guys love each other?”

“Yes. Of course.”

“So, you accept that this relationship existed before I came along?” Marcus frowned gently.

“Marc, what are you getting at?” Eric looked troubled.

“Just- well, was it?”

It was Harper who shrugged.

“Probably, though we wouldn’t have known what to call it. And we all knew something – someone – was missing. We knew we needed you from the moment you first smiled.”

“So… it could have been any pretty, sexual flexible boy?”

Tiago snorted in surprise.

“No. It had to be you.”

“Besides,” added Eric, “Just how many smart, funny, sexy, beautiful, talented, brave, record-breaking, sexual flexible boys do you think there are out there? It was always you. Lust aside-”

“-if such a thing is possible.” Harper purred.

“-everything we found out about you just made us want you more. Everything. Whatever puzzle this is we’ve made between us, you’re part of it. We still all fit together, but there’s perfect Marcus-shaped notch in each of us.”

“You’re sure?”

“Am I missing something?” Harper arched an eyebrow. “Did we not just all move in together and buy a massive bed in order to spend all our free time together?

Marcus took a deep breath, and placed the little velvet jewellery pouch in his lap.

“I can’t ask you guys to marry me.” None of them interrupted as he took another steadying breath. “Literally I can’t. Until someone can redefine marriage as something between more than two people… we can’t get married. So I won’t ask. But I love you all, and you love each other, and you love me.” They were nodding in happy agreement, and Marcus smiled. “And we got a house. For now, this is going to have to do.”

From the pouch Marcus pulled four necklaces, all matching, yet all slightly different. Marcus took them by their chains, and handed them to each of the men he loved in turn, saving one for himself.

“They are French Latch Lifters, a type of key. I had them silver plated and engraved. I thought since maybe ‘cause we’d got the house-” But Marcus couldn’t finish speaking, because he was knocked back by the force of Tiago’s embrace.

“They’re perfect.”

“They have words on...” Eric had looped the chain around his neck, and was now reading the tiny cursive script that ran around the out edge of the key. “The Knave of Hearts. What’s yours say, Harper?”

“King of Hearts.” Harper smiled softly. “Babe...”

“Tiago’s is ‘Lord of Hearts’. Marcus explained as he righted himself once more. Tiago fumbled to read his key and put it on all at the same time.

“And what about you, our beautiful, wonderful, fantastic Fish?” Eric purred.

Marcus held his key out to them, and watched them as they read.

“Four of Hearts.”

“I take it back,” Harper said with a smirk, “Sorry Eric, but Marcus definitely buys the best presents!”

*

“And what about now?”

Marcus glanced up from where he’d been playing with his necklace and staring at his lap whilst he’d talked. It had been a while since he’d finished telling the story of how he, Tiago, Eric, and Harper had got together, and the interviewer had been making notes.

“Sorry?”

“How would you characterise your relationship now?” She glanced back through her notes. “You’ve been living together four years-”

“Nearly five.”

“-living together nearly five years. What would you say is better, or worse, or different about your relationship?”

Marcus chewed his lower lip thoughtfully.

“We trust each other… not more. Hang on. I always trusted them if they told me they loved me, or when they said they loved each other. But now… it’s easier to believe, I suppose? I don’t doubt myself as much. Every now and then after we’d moved in together I used to find myself lying awake in our bed in the middle of night – usually the night before a competition when I was already stressed anyway – wondering if what we were doing was right.”

“Right according to whom?”

Marcus frowned.

“I need a better word. No one’s approval has ever mattered to us, just our own. And yeah, it would be nice if my parents still spoke to me, but I’ve learnt to live with it. Eric says they’ll come around one day, or they won’t, and that’s fine too. Harper’s parents invite us all to theirs for every holiday and family get together on the calendar. Eric’s parents don’t understand but decided to ignore it, called us all his ‘friends’ and they’re all still on speaking terms. Tiago’s mother was worse than mine, but his grandparents are surprisingly cool, and they have us over to their farm in the summer. Tiago says it’s just an excuse to get four lots of muscle to help bring in the hay. No, I’ve never wondered if this relationship was the right thing – that was the wrong word – more that, I used to doubt it was possible. At least, in the long term.”

“And what have you discovered?”

“I love them all more and more all the time.” Marcus smiled easily. “Everything I learn about each of them just brings us closer. When we argue, we let it go afterwards, and you can’t hold the little things against each other. And we can make this work, we are making it work. Some days it’s hard, I suppose all relationships are, and some days everything ticks along like it’s supposed to. And sometimes everything is so perfect you just want to freeze it in time to enjoy that moment forever.”

“Would you say there was a particular moment when you got over those worries that relationships like yours, polyamorous relationships, weren’t made to last?”

“Yes.” Marcus closed his eyes, better able to picture the moment, and the way he’d felt the adoration of the men he loved reached out and take him in. “I got the call from the National Team when we’d been renting for about ten months. I barely asked them if they’d even consider moving, and Tiago just up and said we should start shopping for a club for me, closer to the East Coast and something with a better ranking to allow me to access higher level competitions. And that when we found one we should buy a house. Eric and Harper agreed with him before he’d even finished speaking.” Marcus smiled privately. “I went for try-outs with Swim Mac Carolina, and three weeks later all four of us signed a mortgage on a house in Charlotte, right on the edge of Lake Norman. That’s when I knew.”

“They moved for your career?” The interviewer asked, carefully.

“Yes. But it wasn’t only that. We’re all swimmers, even if we don’t all get to spend all morning in the pool any longer. They knew what that move meant, just like I did. A career with a really harsh routine, lots of travel, international competitions, stress and pressure beyond counting. It’s a job where people ask questions of you, all the time, and every aspect of your life can be picked over. And they were willing to put up with all of that, to help and celebrate it with me even, all for us to be together. We signed ourselves up for the next thirty years to pay for the house.” Marcus sat back with a satisfied sigh. “This is a relationship which is going to last. We decided that a long time ago.”

“Well, thank you so much for the interview, Mr Browning. And good luck.”

“I’ll tell the guys you said so.”

“Thank you for your time, Marcus.”

“You’re welcome. Good luck with your thesis.”

Marcus slung his satchel into the back seat of the little eco-friendly car next to his swim gear and sweats, checked his mirrors, and pulled out of the lot to head towards home. Unlike Tiago’s attachment to a truck big enough to contain most of their kitchen, Marcus had never had the spatial awareness required to drive a big vehicle. But he did find many more parking spots in the centre of the city.

It wasn’t a terribly long drive back to the house on Glen Crescent, and Marcus stopped along the route to pick up groceries and spices before parking alongside Tiago’s enormous truck, and the sleek Sedan which Harper and Eric shared. Everyone was home, and Marcus hadn’t realised how late it had gotten until he started up the steps to the big wrap around porch and heard the mixed laughter of his boyfriends from inside. Marcus leant against his own front door for a few long breaths, eyes closed and his fingers wrapped around the silver latch key at his throat once again as he imagined the men he loved inside the house. Harper would be sat at the table, paperwork spread out in the front of him, frowning at Marcus’s training schedule; Eric would be lazing on the sofa, some trashy paperback bodice-ripper romance in hand, changed into silky lounge pants and a soft textured jersey jumper; Tiago would be moving around the kitchen, maybe dancing as he cooked or cleaned, or he would lean over Harper’s shoulder with a sweet smile and kiss the Captain’s cheek as he worked.

Through the door, Eric said something indistinct, and Marcus smiled as he heard the laughter of the other two. Inside the house was everything he cared about, and Marcus knew as much as he loved swimming – cutting fast through the water, racing to the turns, the silence under the surface, the cold that bit his skin, and the lack of oxygen that made each successful breath flood his body with warmth and endorphins - he knew he would give it all up for the men he loved. Selfishly, he hoped he would never have to choose. Maybe he really could have it all even if his coach would rather he didn’t try for quite so many events and medals. Marcus sighed, and opened the front door.

“I mean really, I don’t know how he stayed in them. I dunno what the designer was thinking.” Eric scowled at the screen of the laptop on his knee. “Fine for the bedroom, less good for jumping off a ten metre platform… Hello Gorgeous.” Eric turned to smile at him. “How was your day?”

“Really good. I beat my own best time for the hundred metres.”

“Again?” Harper came across from where he’d been leaning on the back of the couch behind Eric, and Marcus instantly tucked himself under his captain’s arm, hugging his chest tightly. “Congratulations babe.”

“Thanks. What are you guys looking at?”

“Oh, Eric was reminding us of terrible swim uniforms from competitions past.” Tiago answered from the big open plan kitchen. “You remember the London Olympics?”

“Poor Tom. I wouldn’t want to have worn that to swim in.”

“So do you want to know what you’re going to wear for the Pan Pacifics?” Harper asked with an arched eyebrow.

Marcus stared at him for a long moment, blinking in disbelief.

“My uniform is here? Where?!”

“On the bed, it only arrived an- oh never mind!” Harper laughed as Marcus began to dash up the stairs toward their bedroom. “Such a Show Pony!” he shouted up the stairs after him.

The parcel hand been hand delivered, and Marcus wasted two breaths being disappointed that Harper hadn’t called him sooner to let him know it had arrived. He knew it was self-indulgent, but there were few private pleasures Marcus enjoyed like trying on new swim gear for the first time, though he’d successfully trained all the men he loved to allow him first stretch on the bed when made with fresh sheets. The opened the parcel, laid out all the items of his new uniform for the National Team to represent his country at the upcoming Pan Pacific championships, and purred in happy surprise at the design. Carefully, he packed the spare items away into his kit bag, dressed, and padded downstairs in bare feet to find his lovers waiting for him on the couch.

“My, my, white sweats. Oh we’re going to have to be careful with you, Pretty One.”

“Eric...” Tiago rolled his eyes at his boyfriend’s salacious expression.

“It’s OK, they sent me three sets.” Marcus turned on the spot in the centre of the living room, showing off the blue and red ultra-modern design on each of the shoulders and sleeves. The lower leg of the pants was coloured too, and it was just enough to offset so much bright and shiny fabric. “You guys want to see what’s underneath?”

“When has the answer to that question ever been anything other than ‘yes’, ‘now’, and ‘please’?” Harper chuckled.

“Never,” Tiago agreed, his attention rapt on the figure of his still fully dressed boyfriend. “Will you show us please, Marc?”

Marcus made a show of unzipping his sweatshirt as slowly as he could, rolling and shrugging his shoulders to let the white fabric slip down. His boyfriends watched him intently, and Marcus could have sworn it was getting warmer in the room as they became more aroused. He hung the jacket over the corner of the flat screen television Eric had got cheap when a sports bar in the city had upgraded to a larger and more extravagant model, and paused with his thumbs hooked into the drawstring waistband of his new team sweats.

“You sure you wanna see?”

Eric let out an incoherent groan, slumping into the couch, and Tiago exhaled sharply, his hand landing high on Eric’s thigh with a squeeze. Only Harper leant forwards, elbows on his knees, chin resting on his knuckles, wearing the same intent expression Marcus had seen him use in dozens of business meetings when he was going after what he wanted.

“Yes Captain, my Captain.” Marcus fingered the key on his sternum briefly, and then lowered his pants by an inch, enough to show the tiniest flash of his new trunks, grinned, and shucked them down quickly. He stepped out of the fallen fabric, instantly assuming the ‘ready’ pose he would take on the spring board.

“Dark… my, my. Someone knows what suits you.” Eric purred happily.

“Reminds me of our old Ball State uniform.” Harper added.

“You look… fast. You look awesome babe.”

“Thanks Tiago.” Marcus brushed his palm over the snugly fitted trunks, the tiny silver National Team logo on one hip and the silver designs on the other thigh similar to the sweats, but these stood out strongly against the dark navy fabric which was almost black. The waist sat lower across the top of his crotch than his workout trunks, but one look at his assembled lovers told Marcus they didn’t mind one bit. He turned slowly where he stood, and completed the circle by smiling at the men he loved.

“Tia, go help him out.

“Yes Captain.”

Marcus draped his arms over Tiago’s shoulders as the other man came close enough to bump their hips together. They kissed, and then Tiago had the swimmer moaning against his collarbone as he felt him up expertly through the thin layer of lyrca.

“Uh-uh… you guys are not fucking me in my new trunks.”

“Spoil sport.”

Marcus glared at Eric’s smug expression.

“I’m not losing an international swimming competition because all I can think about is coming in my uniform. Not again.”

“Well, if he’s sure...” Harper chuckled softly.

Tiago had already slipped his hand into the pouch which held the heat of Marcus’s arousal, and he drew the other man out with gentle pressure. Marcus found Tiago’s skin underneath his t-shirt, pressing both palms to his super-warm skin as his lover felt him up. When Harper began to kiss a line along his spine, Marcus shivered and purred in delight. The Captain’s lips worked a trail down his body, and he rolled the trunks along Marcus’s tense thighs, taking the time to kiss each of his buttocks, smoothing his thumbs into the furrow between the muscles of his thighs, and tapping each heel in turn to remove him from the last remnant of his uniform. Marcus kissed his lover, and steadied himself on Tiago’s shoulder as the man sank to his knees to take Marcus’s erection between his lips.

Marcus whimpered in pleasure. The four of them had spent the last five years learning all of each other’s weaknesses, and now Tiago and Harper were using the knowledge to turn their boyfriend into a whimpering mess. He purred and whined alternately as they pleasured him and in return Marcus did his best to make them lose their self-control. He succeeded, and moments later the three of them lay in a tangle on the floor, groaning in tandem as they brought each other right up to the edge of ecstasy. Only when Eric crossed from the couch to join them did Marcus give himself over fully to the many talents of the men he loved, and came messily all over himself.

“Oh my, Show Pony, what would we do without you?” Eric smirked.

“Have less - ahh nghhhh - interesting sex?” Marcus managed as Tiago reamed him the moment the Captain had finished. Harper’s kisses trailed between the two of them, and Marcus watched over his shoulder as his lovers shared a complicated kiss, all their hands never leaving him.

Tiago edged him right up against a second orgasm before he came, and then it was Eric who placed him on his knees, held him up with arms locked around his shoulders, and fucked him until he screamed with pleasure. New competition uniform or not, Marcus knew he was going to have real trouble thinking about anything else during morning training for a while.

Eventually Marcus managed to get to his feet, though his thighs quivered and complained about having to do anything useful at all, and he smiled down at his lovers, sated, happy, and smiling, lying in a collected heap on the floor.

“My, my, what would the neighbours think?”

“That none of us should ever move again?” Tiago offered. “Holy fuck, that was good.”

“Mmmmm….” Eric wasn’t much for conversation and witty comments, he’d used most of them up during their sexual exploits.

Harper leant up on one elbow and leered at his boyfriend.

“Young men with semen dripping down their thighs should not cast the first… um...”

“Condom?” Tiago suggested.

“Ha!” Marcus shook his head. “I think the ones your grandparents left out for us all ended up as water balloons.” He stretched and sighed. “You guys stay there and look pretty. I’m gonna go clean up. What do you all want for dinner?”

“Sex.”

“Blowjobs.”

“Rimming.”

Marcus rolled his eyes, but smiled to himself. The three of them were still nude when he returned, and Harper cocked his head to one side.

“Please tell me you’re not wearing anything other than that apron?”

“You guys are insatiable.

“It’s not our fault,” Eric groaned, “you’re just so damn fucking sexy all the time.”

Marcus scooped up his groceries, and went to the kitchen to assemble pots and pans.

“One day I’m going to say ‘no’ to you guys, and then where’ll you be?”

The laughter of his assembled lovers was louder than the hiss of the first frying onions.

“Oh, that ain’t never gonna happen. I’d bet you my dinner.”

“Sweetie, you couldn’t say no to us any more than we could to you.” Tiago had pulled on Eric’s silky lounge pants, took up another knife, and expertly began to fillet the fish. “We love you too much for that.”

“He’s right.” Harper came to sit on the other side of the bar to watch them. “This thing we have is the best. I have three amazing, gorgeous, sexy boyfriends, who I love and get to spend the rest of my life with. What could be better than that?”

“Sex in the sauna?” Eric countered, and they laughed.

Marcus tossed the stir fry, and smiled to himself as he watched his boyfriend’s enjoying themselves. Later he would get to tell them about his interview, and listen happily while they talked about their days. In the morning he would swim, go to the gym, get a massage, and swim some more, and then he would get to come home to the men he loved, chat and giggle, and find yet more ways of making their heads spin.

Interviewers and sports journalists always asked the same questions, and they always wanted to know how he stayed engaged with his routine, how he stopped his life from getting dull when he did the same things day after day. Marcus always answered them as honestly as he could, and standing there, cooking with his lovers, watching Tiago feed hot spicy morsels to Eric with his fingertips whilst Harper laid his head on the other man shoulder with an easy smile, he knew what he’d said in dozens of interviews was true.

He loved his routine because it brought him such joy, and he couldn’t imagine a better life.