Kiss and Cry

If not for Theo’s hands grounding me, I would have floated away like a helium balloon. I captured his mouth gratefully, clinging to his now familiar body. Our kisses tasted like salt and surrender.

As Theo’s young teammate exclaimed, “Holy shit, it’s true!” behind us, I smiled.

Then I laughed. And I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to.

On the podium, cheers and applause for me swelled like music filling the air, so thick I could almost touch it. The announcer’s voice saying, “From Canada, Olympic gold medalist Henry Sakaguchi!” echoed in my head on a joyous loop as I waved to the loyal, wonderful audience.

Sam, our parents, and Obaachan were among the thousands, and I couldn’t wait to find them afterward and hug them tightly. They’d supported me my whole life, but at the distance I needed—never smothering or controlling. Ojiichan and I rarely spoke about my skating, but I knew he was proud too.

I clapped for Theo as he was announced. He gave the crowd his beautiful, beaming smile. I couldn’t comprehend how he wasn’t devastated. Tears prickled my eyes again.

But as he hopped up onto the silver position on the podium, he opened his arms and hugged me fiercely. I leaned low, and we were probably embracing for too long. Tongues would wag.

Let them.

“Enjoy the hell out of this, baby!” he shouted in my ear as we held on, the crowd thundering in appreciation of what they might have thought was our good sportsmanship or Olympic spirit.

We finally had to let go of each other—but not for long.

“Okay, Mom. I’m turning off my phone now. I’ll see you all for breakfast in the morning.” Theo hesitated. “Yeah. Love you too.”

His cheeks puffing out as he exhaled, he switched off his phone as promised and tucked it away in the pocket of his coat hanging from the back of the door in my room in the Athletes’ Village. Etienne was spending the night with Sam, so Theo and I were alone.

Theo and I were also in love.

We’d clearly established it now. I’d told him in a whisper while we waited in the corridor leading to the ice for the medal ceremony, and he’d squawked in outrage, motioning around us to the various people in the area.

True, perhaps I should have said “I love you” when we were still in the bathroom and he could respond, but I hadn’t. Then I simply couldn’t wait another moment.

“All right,” Theo said. “She’ll apply Valium and Chardonnay. Her dream of being the mother of an Olympic gold medalist is over, but she’ll have to deal.” He ran a hand through his still-damp hair. We’d both showered at the arena after the medal ceremony.

“Mm. What about you?”

“Well, it’s a little soon to be talking about kids, don’t you think? Though we could certainly raise a champion, I have no doubt.”

“Ha, ha.”

He grinned. “And we only just declared our undying love. You doing it when I couldn’t even say anything back!” Theo playfully pushed my arm and kissed me. “The nerve. But now we’re alone, and I can say all the things. Although I said them earlier, I guess. So, I could talk more, or we could get naked. Do you have a preference?”

I pretended to ponder, but he was already yanking off his clothes. He exclaimed “Oh, I have an idea!” and carefully picked up my medal from where I’d left it in its case, not wanting to remind Theo of it, no matter what he said.

He held out the medal. “Put it on.”

Shirtless, I stopped folding my hoodie. “Pardon?”

“You heard me.” He grinned devilishly. “Wear your gold medal.” Motioning to my pants, he added, “Come on! Screw folding. I’ll iron your stuff tomorrow.”

“No you won’t.” Still, I did as he requested, disrobing completely and leaving my pants tossed over a chair. I put on the medal, feeling incredibly foolish. “This is silly.”

Yet my protest faded as Theo eyed me lasciviously and beckoned me to bed, stretching out on his back. I leaned down to kiss him—and Theo winced and jerked back, rubbing his nose.

“Ow! That’s heavy!”

I stilled the swaying medal. “You wanted me to wear it!”

It took a minute for us to stop laughing. I took it off and carefully left it on the side table before kissing his nose. Soon, the laughter faded as we moved together, mouths meeting, slow and then fast. We were hard, but I didn’t think either of us wanted this to be over yet.

“Can I eat your ass?” Theo asked. “Would you like that?”

I made a helpless little whimper. He knew I liked it—he’d wrung all sorts of noises from me with his tongue. But I said, “Yes,” because he wanted to hear it. As much as Theo wanted me to be aggressive with him sometimes and take control, he also loved giving me pleasure. And trying to shock me with his words.