Arthur watched as he swam through the water, parting it with expert precision and bringing his head back up for air at the exact moment for maximum efficiency to speed down his lane. He knew that despite the loud cheers from the onlookers, he only heard them when his head came up every other stroke. He swam with all his might, legs pumping, arms pushing through the water, but it was all to no avail. Even on his home turf he wasn't better than Alfred. He watched again and again as the American outswam him by four hundredths of a second.

He rewound the video once more. This was all part of his training. He needed to analyze what part of Alfred's style made him win all the time. Was it his kick off the wall when he made the turn around? Was it how much longer his arms were, giving him that much of an advantage with his arm span? Whatever it was, it drone Arthur insane, especially since he and Alfred seemed to in a tentative relationship, if they were to even call it that.

If only he could rewind last night to figure out what had happened, he might be able to concentrate more on his training. As it was, his mind was going back and forth between guilt and excitement. He'd fancied Alfred for four years, but never imagined he'd have shared his body with him in such an intimate act. Last night he'd lost in their first swim meet against each other that constituted a medal, and yet it seemed Arthur had been the real winner when he and Alfred had had incredible sex together. And while that was amazing, it was also terrifying because Alfred was his rival. It could all be some ploy to distract Arthur from getting the gold.

Arthur didn't want to think Alfred would do such an underhanded trick, but he had to consider all of the possibilities. The Olympic Village was already teeming with hormones and rampant sex even out in public. Arthur hated to think Alfred could have possibly been swept up in the chaos of the Olympics rather than having Arthur's best interests at heart.

Shaking his head, he rewound the video once more and told himself to focus. He would win gold!

Every time Alfred saw Arthur swim, he thought of him as someone from another world. He commanded the water so skillfully, as if he were born of water. It's no wonder he's a world champion and known around the world as one of the best swimmers. So when Alfred had come onto the scene this year, how had he beaten him? Alfred was good, but he wasn't Olympic great; Beijing had attested to this when he barely made it to fifth place. At least, he wasn't until yesterday when he beat the reigning world champ.

It couldn't have been because of me, Alfred thought. There had to be a reason. Arthur was too good to just lose.

Alfred had told himself he would wait to try anything with Arthur until after the swimming competitions were over, but being in London had wound him up and made him too hyped up in the craze of the games. Arthur's very presence intoxicated him. He slipped and had sex with the man he idolized instead of waiting and trying to date him first. Now what was he to do?

If he ignored Arthur, there was a chance his feelings would be misinterpreted, but the same could be true if he continued to pursue Arthur every night. He didn't want Arthur to think he thought lowly of him, and he certainly didn't want Arthur to feel he was being used to distract his chances of obtaining gold. He told himself it would be fine. He would just let things pan out as they came along, and hopefully he'd find the right way to express himself. Right now, he had to focus on the gold.

Arthur cursed at himself. He was a right fool; one who was madly in love. He breathed out sharply as Alfred's large hands flowed down his entire body. He gasped as a wet tongue licked up his sternum and then jumped to flick one of his already pert nipples. His eyes closed as he focused on Alfred's lips, hands, tongue, and penis as he was mercilessly fucked into his bed, but he also felt something bumping against his chest. It was Alfred's newly acquired gold medal. He'd won again. Arthur tried to ignore it, but every bump was a reminder he had failed.

He grasped it, like he had the night before, and moaned loudly. Alfred responded well to this. He captured Arthur's lips with his own while wrapping a hand around Arthur's leaking cock to stroke him to fruition.

Damn, Alfred thought. Damnit. I did it again. I said I'd wait, but he's just so fucking beautiful.

Alfred watched Arthur beside him. Arthur was tracing a finger along the gold medal still around Alfred's neck. Arthur had insisted he keep it on while they had sex, and he always held on to it like they were reigns and Alfred was some kind of animal. It was a strange little kink of his, one that Alfred could easily see himself enjoying just as much.

However, those eyes told of a different story. Arthur wanted gold for himself, that much was obvious, but he not only lost, he was also fucked by the winner soon after the event ended. It made Arthur very depressed. Alfred's feelings were easily being misunderstood.

Quickly, he took his medal off and put it around Arthur's neck. The Englishman looked at him with a thick eyebrow raised. Alfred blushed, but was unable to give a proper smile.

"You can wear it… For right now."

Arthur hesitated, but then he took it off. "No. I will win this on my own. I don't want pity."

"I don't pity you," Alfred said.

"Then why do you toy with me so?"

"I don't!" Alfred exclaimed far too loudly for midnight. He put a hand over his mouth. He lowered his voice and said, "I don't. I want to win, but I also want you to win."

"And I will, but by my own skill." His voice had reverted to that of an athlete; serious, forceful, and confident. "Don't you dare let me win."

Alfred smirked. "Not a chance." He then grew serious too. "I'm not toying with you and this isn't some trick to fuck you up. I…I care for you."

Arthur's breath hitched. His eyes said he was careful to not be too trusting of Alfred's words alone. Alfred had the power the make or break him if he took his heart for granted. Of course, Arthur had that too, but there was a good chance Arthur didn't know and/or believe that.

Alfred shifted closer. "I promise you… If and when you win I'll be right there, cheering for you and congratulating you. I won't drop you and forget how I feel."

"How do you feel?" Arthur whispered.

Alfred gulped. Would he be considered strange he said he liked Arthur for two years? "I… It's something intense. It's been there for two years. I saw you on T.V. You were so beautiful in the water and I…I fell for you then."

Arthur's eyes dropped as his blush rose. "I… feel the same. I have since you were in Beijing."

Alfred smiled widely. He kissed Arthur on the lips quickly, and then hugged him tight to his chest. "You're something else, Arthur Kirkland. I dunno what just yet, but you're something else."

Arthur kissed Alfred's collarbone in reply.

Arthur often thought back to that night. He fiddled with Alfred's gold medal he stole just before they parted ways at the airport. It wasn't just a reassurance to have Alfred see him again, but a promise to himself; a promise that someday he'd win the gold for real.

But really, if he were honest with himself, he'd realize that he really did win.

Hoshiko2's cents: So, I told a few of you I wouldn't continue the story from last update. Well, I saw the prompt for this round and, well, it kind of, sorta, just, um, happened. LOL! I'll be doing the rest of the event with this AU's storyline, and it will constantly be about the time from the start of the Olympics to the end with switching POVs. I hope you stay around to read more.

I went back and changed the name for the series. See you next time!