“The organizers probably didn’t imagine a lot of sharing.”
“Ugh. It’s like being in college again.” Tim lifted his head up and slammed it back onto the pillow; then he shifted his weight, clearly trying to get comfortable.
Isaac chuckled.
Tim rolled onto his side, alongside where Isaac sat at the head of the bed. Tim put his arm around Isaac’s waist and snuggled closer. A man could get used to this.
A few moments later Tim’s breathing evened out and he went back to sleep.
Isaac put his phone down and shifted on the bed a little. Tim shifted with him but didn’t wake up. Isaac supposed it came with the territory; in his years of traveling to swim meets, he’d slept in some strange places. There’d been a World Championships years ago in Japan in which the housing had been nice, but on a particularly noisy street in Tokyo. Isaac had roomed with Luke, and Luke had expressed amazement that Isaac had been able to sleep at all. But sometimes an athlete needed to sleep, and Isaac had essentially willed his body to shut down.
He put his arm around Tim and held him close. They hadn’t even done anything except kiss, but Isaac was drawn to this man who lay in his arms. He was glad that part of him still worked, even if the relationship was doomed because of sport and geography.
He started to drift off himself when Tim stirred again and tightened his arms around Isaac. “You’ll come visit me in Colorado, right?”
“Sure,” Isaac said, although it felt like a lie.
“I have a place in the mountains. Which sounds super luxurious, but I promise, it’s just my house.”
“I have a shitty apartment in Raleigh, so you can visit me there, but I bet it’s much less nice than your house.”
“You’ll make money from swimming again.” Tim sounded tired but certain. “A few gold medals can do a lot to make sponsors forget your past indiscretions.”
“Is your implication that I’ll be able to afford a better apartment?”
“Yeah.” Tim propped himself up on one elbow but kept touching Isaac, running his fingers over Isaac’s abs. “I can’t imagine what the last couple of years have been like for you. But you can put it behind you now, right?”
Isaac wasn’t so sure; so much of what he had experienced was tightly woven into who he was now. But he said, “I certainly hope so.”
“You have regrets?”
“Of course.”
“During my interview for the network package, the reporter asked me if I have regrets. I don’t. Well, I regret that I let Pat manipulate me as long as he did, but I don’t regret coming out. It’s important, you know? To show young kids that they can do anything and it doesn’t matter if they’re gay or half-Asian or whatever.”
“You’re half-Asian?”
“My mother is Filipino.”
“I didn’t know that. I mean, I guessed you were biracial, but it felt rude to ask about it.”
“I always assume my eyes are the giveaway, but you’re not the first person not to realize it. I’ve had people guess Latino. My parents are always at my big events and get lots of camera time on the American broadcast, so I assume everyone knows, which is maybe presumptuous.” Tim sighed and shifted his weight slightly. “But my point is that by coming out, I’m saying to the world, hey, I’m gay and I can do this. I’m a proud, talented man. I think the Olympics are kind of the great equalizer in that way.”
“Really?” Isaac had never seen it that way. It seemed like some athletes or countries had different advantages and deficits—countries with more money could afford to provide their athletes with better training facilities, state-of-the-art equipment, and other resources—and viewers and the press made assumptions about who would win or lose. Often the press-driven narrative felt like a self-fulfilling prophecy, or that certain outcomes were preordained.
“There are, of course, some barriers to success. Some teams have more money, better training programs, a culture that supports them. Some athletes are blessed genetically. How tall are you?”
“Six four.”
“Which gives you an advantage in swimming, I bet.”
“It does.” Isaac was a little uncomfortable with this conversation. He squirmed but didn’t stop Tim, liking the sound of his voice if not what he was saying.
“I mean, the great athletes often have these advantages. The best runners have long legs. The best gymnasts are short. The best volleyball players are tall. Athletes tend to fall into the right sports for their bodies. I was too tall to