Alfred loved London. He had never thought much of the city before the Olympics were to be held there, but now it had become his world. He truly enjoyed the weather, even though he was unused to overcast days, but he overlooked this aspect because it all seemed sunny to him. It was a brilliant day whenever he was able to be beside Arthur.

They walked openly now, together with clasped hands and smiles that brightened even the dimmest of days. Before the Olympics, Alfred didn't know the food, the language and culture differences, the history, or, really, anything about England. He knew it was there and America had kicked its butt in the Revolutionary War and then saved them during WWII, but that was the extent of his knowledge, and his desire to care. Now, however, it was almost shameful he didn't know about Arthur's homeland. To fix this, he spent quite some time reading up on the island nation.

"You-!" Arthur choked on his drink as Alfred explained his absence from the race meet a month ago. "You really…took that time to read up on England?! Why?!"

Alfred shrugged nonchalantly, acting as if it wasn't a big deal, but the blush and bouncing leg under the table gave him away. "Well, I didn't want to seem stupid. I know you're a really smart kinda guy, so I wanted to be on par with you. And…it's your country. I don't want to be left out."

Alfred knew Arthur had been touched by his efforts. He showed him as much by all the little things he did that Alfred was so fond of. As the days wore on, however, Alfred noticed Arthur becoming irritated the more he did things for Alfred. Did he think him ungrateful? He showered him with affection and more love than before, but it must not have been enough.

"Sweetheart?" Alfred asked one afternoon. "Are…you okay?"

"What do you mean?"

Arthur was by the stove pouring himself a fresh cup of tea. He was wearing a long sleeved sweater that Alfred had bought him for his birthday a few months back. Alfred learned quite early on that not only did Arthur enjoy sweaters, but he loved oversized ones. He only knew this when he had walked in on him when he was wearing one and the Englishman had curled in on himself with the sweater over his knees and up to his chin. There was a goofy smile on his face Alfred had never seen before.

Either way, Alfred thought he looked adorable all the same. He was watching him carefully, trying not to be distracted by the sweater or the swimmer's legs, and focus on what he wanted to say.

"Um, well…you just seem upset lately. Is something wrong?"

Arthur turned to face him. The steam brought color to his cheeks and steamed his glasses he only wore on rainy days. "No. Not exactly."

"What's the un-exactly part?" Alfred asked slowly.

Arthur hesitated and then sat down at the table. "Darling, I still cannot believe you actually spent months of your training to read about my country. It was such a brilliant and amazing thing, I just feel I cannot ever give you back the same amount of love in return. It's not resentment at you, but more for me that I am unable to do so…"

Alfred grinned widely in relief. "Is that all? Shit, I thought it was way worse. Sweetheart, you don't have to do anything giant to say you love me. So I read a few books and read up on things on Wikipedia. I'm not a better boyfriend than you. You do all these cute little things that make me love you."

Arthur blushed and hid his face partly by the sweater. The brown cotton only accentuated his green eyes all the more. Alfred smiled wider and took Arthur's hand from his cup. "I mean it."

"I just…"

"Hey, shush. I love you."

And all Arthur could do was sigh and smile and consider himself the true winner of the Olympics.

When Arthur was four years old, his parents took him sailing. He fell into the water and learned the swim, or it was death. His parents feared he would be scarred of water ever since, but it made him stronger. And he craved to go back for more. Sailing and swimming became a whole other thing to him.

There was one aspect of Arthur's life that the media loved to know about, and that was Arthur's hobby of sailing. During his down time of swimming, he would sail the River Thames, and even made an attempt at crossing the Channel. It was always for fun, and he never competed. That was always reserved for swimming.

Arthur recalled the night Alfred told him of his life in Iowa and running through corn fields, and racing his friends down the hill to the school bus and the winner won ice cream from the losers. It was a touching moment, one that let Arthur know this was a relationship that would last and that Alfred was serious.

Alfred did that constantly. He always let Arthur into his heart and showed him he was honest and true, and that he was here to stay. Arthur didn't. He was still so guarded. He was the one to steal the gold to ensure they met again. He was never the first to make a move. It was all always Alfred.

One afternoon in March, Arthur called Alfred to wake him up. It was a waste of time seeing as the swimmer had already been up for two hours and was already finishing his morning practice. The life of an Olympian never ceases.

"Hey sweetheart. What's up? You never call so early." Alfred sounded breathless. Arthur smiled, thinking of the water running down his face and across his laugh lines. Then, he thought of Alfred underneath him, panting for him, and he had to stop his train of thought.

"Hello darling. Are you free to come and visit me soon? I would like to give you something."

"Give me something?" Alfred laughed. "Hey now, what did I say about…"

"Please?" Arthur tried, interrupting Alfred. "It's… It's very important to me."

"Well, gee, when you put it that way. I'll get on a flight by Saturday. Is that good?"

"Perfect, my love. Have a wonderful training."

"I'll call you later. Love ya!"

Arthur hung up the phone and touched the gold medal hanging from his neck. He always wore it around the house when Alfred was away. It was his only source of solace when the feeling of longing became too much. He smiled serenely.

Alfred came on Sunday afternoon with a large suitcase. He'd be staying at least a week. Sometimes this would drag on to a second week, but only if his coach allowed it. He was still to be training for Rio in four years (now three). Arthur's coach also had to agree, seeing as Arthur was more focused on local swimming matches to come. Nevertheless, they normally could work it out and be together with little difficulty.

Like always, Alfred picked Arthur up in a tight hug, leaned back to have Arthur slightly above him, and kissed him long and hard. The media loved these reunions. Arthur always had Alfred's medal, and they would swap it back as a way of greeting. They found it far more intimate to keep this tradition alive, rather than just a kiss. It was always a promise of return.

"So why did you want to see me so badly?" Alfred asked as they left the airport. He leaned against the window and closed his eyes to regain his balance after having been in the air for so long. "I mean, I'm sure it was because you missed me."

"No, actually, it's something else." Arthur felt Alfred's eyes on him. He smiled, but didn't look at him. "You'll see. Rest up today. We head out tomorrow at dawn."

"Aw, I can't rest until we've had our final ritual." Meaning, until they had sex.

Arthur chuckled. "Of course, darling."

The water was slightly choppy, but the sky was clear. In the distance were grey clouds that Arthur ignored. They wouldn't be out long enough to run into any problems. It would be just a nice and easy sail onto the River Thames to introduce Alfred to the sport. Hopefully he would fall in love with it and he and Alfred would have something new to do together.

They set sail around eight in the morning. Alfred watched from his spot on the boat as Arthur moved fluidly around the boat to open the sail, tug on the lines, and steer them into deeper waters. It was mesmerizing. Arthur had such control of the waters, even with a boat. Alfred sighed in deep admiration of the man. There was so little he couldn't do.

"You're amazing," Alfred said. Arthur looked over with wide eyes. "You really are. I can't believe such a perfect guy like you is with me."

"What are you rambling about?" Arthur sat down to laugh breathlessly. "I am no such thing. I have many flaws. Are you not the Olympic gold medalist and one of the sexiest men alive?"

Alfred didn't react like Arthur thought he would. Instead of the bumbling, fumbling fool he became when complimented from Arthur, he remained the same. He continued to smile at Arthur fondly. It made Arthur uncomfortable. This was for Alfred, not him.

He turned the boat sharply, making Alfred wobble in his seat. The American laughed loudly, and continued to do so until Arthur joined in. "Oh, you're an idiot."

"I know, but what can you do?"

"Love you."

Alfred winked at him. "Now you're talking."

But those dark clouds continued to hover too closely. And sailing stole away something for them both.

Hoshiko2's cents: Sorry to leave it on a cliffhanger! I wanted to go longer with this, but I had to stop because of time restraints. I hope you liked it! This isn't the last chapter, I assure you! It's just the end of the Olympic Event at Livejournal.

There is one chapter left! ;3