Rings Anniversary Gymnastics Collection

1. Camden

Camden

brISBANE

And for what felt like the twelfth time that day, I didn’t land my vault.

Two...huge...steps...again.

I mean, this was my first Olympics, so I should cut myself a little slack, but I had this vault nailed at the World Championships earlier this year.

So much so, I won the gold for it, which was the main reason I was on the US Olympic team.

That, and Danny Santerre, the “King of the Vault,” had retired a month before Worlds.

It was still surreal to be in Brisbane, but I wasn’t going to let the team or my country down.

“Take it easy, Camden,” Coach Woodward said as he offered me a towel and some water. “Give it a break for ten minutes, watch some YouTube or something.”

I sat down between my personal coach, Noah, and my teammate, Tyler.

“What’s going on in that head, kiddo?” Noah asked.

“I wish I knew. You would look at that run and think it was nerves, but I feel okay. It feels like Worlds. I feel level.”

“Maybe you just need to get laid, Cam,” Tyler deadpanned.

Cue water exiting mouth rapidly, followed by embarrassingly loud coughing sounds and small awkward silence.

“You offering?” Noah asked.

Thank you, Noah. That was not pleasant.

“Hell no! Just thought sweet innocent Cam might not know what he needs. Maybe it’ll help him out?”

I threw him my best glare. “So helpful, Tyler. Your sarcasm is something I treasure.”

Tyler Hale was the joker of the team. Wavy, blonde hair past his shoulders and green eyes helped with the surfer boy vibe he had going on, so it wasn’t a surprise he was from California.

Grant and Graham Shea, black-haired introvert twins from Wisconsin, were working on the rings.

Their pale skin had pinkened a little in the Australian sun, but they’d need a little more than that to catch up to Tyler.

The fifth and last member of our team was Lucas Rivera, who went to Florida University with me.

He was on the pommel horse at the moment.

The two alternates, Alex and Brandon, were staying offsite. They didn’t practice with us.

I turned to Noah. “Is that something gymnasts find helpful before a big meet? I haven’t...thought about it before.”

“Look, as your coach, I won’t tell you either way. I will say that you need to get a good night’s sleep, so whatever you do or don’t do before a solid eight hours is none of my business.”

“Okay, I can’t help but feel a ‘but’ coming.”

“But I will also add, because I am afraid of your mother and if she ever hears about this and thinks I encouraged it, I will have to look for another job, that I advise against it. Too much of a distraction.”

Huh.

“And also use protection.”

That turned my head again and got Tyler laughing.

And got me thinking.

I hadn’t thought about sex for a long time. Sex with another person, anyway. My hands and I had an intimate relationship. They were always there, did everything I told them to, and needed nothing from me. And there was a reason my hands had been enough, and its name was Zane Hunter.

Zane was the captain of my high school gymnastics team. I looked up to him. I adored him.

I didn’t think he noticed. I was wrong.

FLORIDA, four years earlier.

It was a weight training day and the coaches had us end the session with a pushup contest. How many could we do before we gave up?

Zane and I were the last two on the mat.

I didn’t even hear the rest of the guys counting.

My vision became blurred, but I kept my focus on pumping my arms. It wasn’t until someone waved their hand in front of my face and yelled “Cam!” that I realized I had won.

Zane, lying down a few feet away, looked at me upside-down and smiled. “Glad you’re on our team.”

We all hit the showers after that. My muscles were pretty sore, and my focus was still fuzzy, coming off the adrenalin high.

My arms were achy and the warm water felt good.

Facing the wall, I spread my hands above the shower head, trying to stretch the muscles in my arms out.

I wasn’t sure how long I stood like that, but I guess it got Zane’s attention.

“Hey,” Zane said casually. The hair on my neck stood up. I could tell he was right behind me.

Startled, I turned, and I was right...he was inches away from me. And we were alone.

“So...you were pretty impressive out there. No one’s ever beaten me at that before. You’re kind of impressive in here as well.”

What the fuck? Was he coming on to me? I tried to laugh it off and kept washing my chest.

I knew I was gay, but I thought I was good at hiding it.

I never let my eyes linger. I repeated silly mantras in my head to control my dick in the showers.

Other people were out at my school, but not any athletes.

It was an unspoken rule on the sports teams. The guys just wouldn’t be comfortable with it.

And here was Zane fucking Hunter, stroking my dick.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“You know, for a smart guy, I wouldn’t think you’d need an anatomy lesson. We’re alone. You’re strong as fuck and you’re cute. Want me to stop?”

Did I? “No.” God, it felt good. “I’ve never done this before.”

“What? Stroke your dick?”

“No, have someone else touch it.”

“Ah, someone as hot as you has never done this?”

He thought I was hot. There goes any doubt...

this was happening. My dream guy wanted me.

He kept stroking as he moved closer. He looked straight into my eyes and said, “That’s hard to believe, but I’m happy to be the first,” and then he kissed me.

And then my arms wrapped around his body as my lips and tongue inundated every nerve cell I had.

His lips were incredible, and then they were everywhere.

My chin, my throat, my neck...he turned me around and nibbled from my shoulders down my back until he got to my ass.

“This okay?” he asked, and then he spread my cheeks and dove tongue-first in between.

“Ahhh...yyyyeeesss.”

He pulled back. “Your ass is amazing.” Oh my god, Zane Hunter thought my ass was amazing.

I had played with myself before and I knew it could feel good, but not like this. After a few minutes, my dick was leaking precum.

He stood up, squirted some soap on his hand from the wall dispenser, and started fingering me. I knew where this was going and I was on board.

“Something tells me this might be your first time. You’re sure you’re good with this?” he asked.

I said, “Yeah, I’ve played a little down there.”

He chuckled and added another finger. It wasn’t long before his fingers left and I could feel his dick against my ass. “Do you have a condom?” I said.

“I haven’t been with anyone in months. That okay?”

And again, I said, “Yeah.”

As soon as his dick entered me, he became another person.

The affection was gone. The compliments were gone.

He just wanted to get off. He didn’t even touch my dick again, and I did not cum.

My dick virtually disappeared inside me from the discomfort.

I just wanted it to end. After he came inside me, he left almost immediately, tousling my hair on his way out, saying “Thanks for the ride.”

It wasn’t until after the euphoria from his attention wore off that I realized I had been used. I was a hole, and that’s all he thought of me. I went from feeling so wanted to feeling like garbage.

I was embarrassed, and I started crying.

I finished showering quickly and in tears, called my best friend, Erika, and she met me at my house.

My mom wasn’t home from work yet. One concerned “What happened?” from her and everything poured out of me.

That I was gay. I had known for years and was too scared to tell anyone.

Zane hit on me in the shower. He kissed me, and it was amazing.

And then Zane fucked me, and it was awful.

Through it all, she listened and held my hand. She was a good listener.

We discussed reporting it, but I went through everything Zane and I had said to each other and I realized I never told him to stop.

I don’t know why I didn’t. I guess I was waiting for it to get better was what I told her.

We talked more about possibilities and it boiled down to two things: I didn’t want it to derail my gymnastics career and I didn’t want to come out of the closet in such a public way.

And accusing the star of the gymnastics team of taking advantage of me would do both.

Erika and I came to the unfortunate conclusion that it was just a really horrible first time.

Really. Horrible.

Zane never mentioned what happened. He never complimented me again. It was like it never happened.

Erika is the only reason I made it through the year. Zane graduated, and she and I poured our energy into our friendship and gymnastics.

brISBANE

Cam: You done practice?

Erika: Yeah, heading back to the village. You?

Cam: Lunch?

Erika: Sure. See you at the dining hall.

I showered quickly, trying to rinse the memories away.

“You okay, dude?” Luke asked. “It was stressing me out watching you vault.”

“Yeah, I don’t know what was happening out there. Maybe Erika can help?”

“No worries. I’m sure you guys’ll work through it.”

Luke wasn’t my closest friend, but we were friendly, even though I had spent more time with him than anyone else on the team.

We went to the same college and had been training for the last year together.

I knew the basics, but he kept to himself.

He had pretty strict parents and liked grilled cheese, but perhaps the thing I admired most about him was that he was unabashedly himself.

Which was to say, kind and proudly gay. He was our team’s biggest cheerleader, and he was always the first to see how others were doing, offering help or encouragement, like he did with me just now, as if there wasn’t a media circus outside the gates clamoring for him.