Don't Lose Sight Of Me
Title: Don't Lose Sight Of Me
Fandom: Diving
Pairing: David Boudia/Thomas Finchum
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: This is not real, this never happened. I don't know them and this is all fiction. Made up stuff.
Author's Notes: Takes place Saturday night after the 10m platform finals. Thanks to metafic for the beta.
---
He's standing in front of the window when Thomas finally returns to the room. Even though the first thing he'd wanted to do was find Thomas, David had run away instead. He'd escaped as soon as he'd finished talking to coach and his parents. He begged out of dinner or whatever they'd wanted to do, making excuses about being tired. Mostly he'd just wanted to get away. And now he was standing front of their window, wondering how it all went wrong.
The door opens, letting light from the hall into the room and David turns. He sees Thomas, framed by the lights and he tries to find the right things to say, but can't. Thomas doesn't say anything either, not that David blames him. Instead, he turns back to the window, taking silence over the awkwardness of 'well, at least we both sucked.' He stares out over Beijing and wishes they could see more. He wants to see the Great Wall, the Cube, he wants to see everything, but he can't. Instead, the window looks out onto some court yards, other dorms, some empty now.
He's lost in the view and he doesn't hear Thomas cross the room. Doesn't notice until Thomas touches his shoulder. David turns and Thomas slides his hand along his arm, up toward his face. Still they don't talk, but, David thinks, maybe they don't need to. He stands, not quite on his toes; Thomas cups his face in his hands and kisses him softly. The room tilts a bit and David can still taste chlorine on Thomas' mouth. He reaches out, hands resting on Thomas' hips. Opens his mouth on Thomas', deepens the kiss as Thomas pulls them closer. Tighter together.
David pushes his fingers under the hem of Thomas' shirt, but they don't go any further. David tips his head back a little as Thomas kisses along his jaw, toward his neck, before pulling back. He steps away, turning away from Thomas and back out the window. He's startled, but only a little, then Thomas steps in, arms wrapped around David's shoulders.
"It's ..." But David can't figure out what he wants to say.
Thomas leans in, mouth against David's ear. Brushes his lips against skin as he speak. "I know."
David takes a small step back, letting Thomas hold him tighter. He thinks they're too young to be this upset. He can hear his parents, coach, telling them that they made it to the final, that they should be proud. He can hear the media, everyone, telling them both that they'll do even better in four years. It makes his shoulders, his back, tense up and he knows Thomas can feel it. His arms around David go tighter, as if trying to squeeze the stress out of them.
"There's always London." David says, but the disappointment is clear in his voice.
Thomas leans on him and David reaches up, hands over Thomas' arms, holding him. "It won't be the same."
David tips his head back, turning his face until Thomas can kiss him. Brushing their lips together, and then harder. This is what they share, just like everything else. Only no one knows about this.
"We'll have this, us." David's voice is barely a whisper. He can feel Thomas nod, kissing his agreement against David's mouth.
David turns again, careful to keep Thomas' arms around him. "Maybe tomorrow it'll feel different." He can tell from the look on Thomas' face, illuminated by the village outside the window, that he doesn't believe it any more than David does.
But Thomas smiles, just a little. "Maybe." He whispers, and then leans in, mouth against David's. Hand against the back of Thomas' neck, then fingers sliding through his hair. David deepens the kiss until they're pressed up against each other, holding on tightly.
He knows coach is right, knows their parents are right. They'll be better in four years, do better in four years. But it was never about four years, it was about now, about this and about Beijing. Tomorrow it all ends and they go back home, to college and the lives they have that aren't focused on the pool. On each other.
David sighs against Thomas' mouth, and Thomas pulls back. "Don't," he whispers, mouth moving against David's. "Worry about it later." His voice is soft, almost gentle and David kisses him back, harder than before and he thinks he can do that. Just for tonight.
Fandom: Diving
Pairing: David Boudia/Thomas Finchum
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: This is not real, this never happened. I don't know them and this is all fiction. Made up stuff.
Author's Notes: Takes place Saturday night after the 10m platform finals. Thanks to metafic for the beta.
---
He's standing in front of the window when Thomas finally returns to the room. Even though the first thing he'd wanted to do was find Thomas, David had run away instead. He'd escaped as soon as he'd finished talking to coach and his parents. He begged out of dinner or whatever they'd wanted to do, making excuses about being tired. Mostly he'd just wanted to get away. And now he was standing front of their window, wondering how it all went wrong.
The door opens, letting light from the hall into the room and David turns. He sees Thomas, framed by the lights and he tries to find the right things to say, but can't. Thomas doesn't say anything either, not that David blames him. Instead, he turns back to the window, taking silence over the awkwardness of 'well, at least we both sucked.' He stares out over Beijing and wishes they could see more. He wants to see the Great Wall, the Cube, he wants to see everything, but he can't. Instead, the window looks out onto some court yards, other dorms, some empty now.
He's lost in the view and he doesn't hear Thomas cross the room. Doesn't notice until Thomas touches his shoulder. David turns and Thomas slides his hand along his arm, up toward his face. Still they don't talk, but, David thinks, maybe they don't need to. He stands, not quite on his toes; Thomas cups his face in his hands and kisses him softly. The room tilts a bit and David can still taste chlorine on Thomas' mouth. He reaches out, hands resting on Thomas' hips. Opens his mouth on Thomas', deepens the kiss as Thomas pulls them closer. Tighter together.
David pushes his fingers under the hem of Thomas' shirt, but they don't go any further. David tips his head back a little as Thomas kisses along his jaw, toward his neck, before pulling back. He steps away, turning away from Thomas and back out the window. He's startled, but only a little, then Thomas steps in, arms wrapped around David's shoulders.
"It's ..." But David can't figure out what he wants to say.
Thomas leans in, mouth against David's ear. Brushes his lips against skin as he speak. "I know."
David takes a small step back, letting Thomas hold him tighter. He thinks they're too young to be this upset. He can hear his parents, coach, telling them that they made it to the final, that they should be proud. He can hear the media, everyone, telling them both that they'll do even better in four years. It makes his shoulders, his back, tense up and he knows Thomas can feel it. His arms around David go tighter, as if trying to squeeze the stress out of them.
"There's always London." David says, but the disappointment is clear in his voice.
Thomas leans on him and David reaches up, hands over Thomas' arms, holding him. "It won't be the same."
David tips his head back, turning his face until Thomas can kiss him. Brushing their lips together, and then harder. This is what they share, just like everything else. Only no one knows about this.
"We'll have this, us." David's voice is barely a whisper. He can feel Thomas nod, kissing his agreement against David's mouth.
David turns again, careful to keep Thomas' arms around him. "Maybe tomorrow it'll feel different." He can tell from the look on Thomas' face, illuminated by the village outside the window, that he doesn't believe it any more than David does.
But Thomas smiles, just a little. "Maybe." He whispers, and then leans in, mouth against David's. Hand against the back of Thomas' neck, then fingers sliding through his hair. David deepens the kiss until they're pressed up against each other, holding on tightly.
He knows coach is right, knows their parents are right. They'll be better in four years, do better in four years. But it was never about four years, it was about now, about this and about Beijing. Tomorrow it all ends and they go back home, to college and the lives they have that aren't focused on the pool. On each other.
David sighs against Thomas' mouth, and Thomas pulls back. "Don't," he whispers, mouth moving against David's. "Worry about it later." His voice is soft, almost gentle and David kisses him back, harder than before and he thinks he can do that. Just for tonight.