For Love of Justin

"I Saw a Big Star Running From Me, A World From a Record On My Bed" 

Author's Note:  Thanks to Chadmom for her beta and continuing encouragement.

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Brian poked his head in the hotel room. “You guys ready to head to the stadium? The girls have been ready since....”

“Since I was ten and won my first foot race at the Fourth of July picnic!” Daphne gaily shouted from the hallway. “Tell them to stop primping and get their asses in gear! I want to go win me some medals!”

Brian smirked at the two young men who were still in various stages of undress and nowhere near ready. He suspected Ben had found the other two runners similarly unready to leave, given that they still had over two hours before they needed to be at the stadium for the opening of the Golden League Circuit. They were actually here, just a few hours away from the start of the Bizlett Games. This was where the best in the world competed and in pre-Olympic years, tested their mettle against their likely competition in the following year’s Olympic Stadium. This year, the Circuit was beginning in Oslo, Norway, which was a break for the Pittsburgh runners who were used to a colder climate. There was stiff competition at the distances they were going to be competing at, 1500m for Daphne, Kelsey and Johnson, and 3000 and 5000m for Pilcher, Taylor and Wilson. It would be the runners first opportunity to compete against world class runners, as well as the running community’s first look at Carnegie Mellon’s bright young talents.

Brian was looking forward to the show. Like Daphne, he felt like he’d been waiting for this moment for years. He was checking on the young men so early primarily to share in the pre-race excitement. And to help calm any nerves or worries they might have that they weren’t ready–they were. They belonged here, running with the world’s best.

It had been a bit of a mad rush getting the six runners, Ben and himself, all packed and ready in time for this June 27th race. Fortunately, Cynthia Prescott, his administrative assistant, was a miracle worker, and each of the students already had passports. George, Warren Pilcher and Joe Johnson each had gotten theirs the year before when most of the team took a trip to London for some track and field events. Justin had one from happier days with his family, and both Kelsey and Daphne came from well-traveled families. The decision to move up the trip to Europe in light of the runners’ performances in practice became even more important in light of the new attacks and the inability of the police to get any leads on the person or persons making them. By including Pilcher and Johnson, and Ben being able to certify that all six of them had the times to justify their entry into the Games, they got their four musketeers out of harm’s way and were able to focus everyone’s attention back on running.

Also, fortunately for Brian’s business, several of his clients were sports companies and he’d been able to interest their executives into business trips to check out the year’s bright young stars in the track and cross country world. Even the hint of an American finishing well, especially an attractive American, was enough to spark corporate sponsor interest. It would make a world of difference to George or Justin if they could gain the eye of one of the big training teams, like Nike or Adidas. He had Mark Brown, the new young CEO of Brown Athletics along, as well as Monica Andrews, Vice President of Marketing for Eyeconic Optics, who loved his idea of tying their new campaign to actual up and coming athletes, preparing for their “day in the sun” in Athens, in 2004. In order to help woo his clients, he brought along Cynthia, which also enabled him to have a female baby-sitter for Daphne and Kelsey. The girls might be adults, but he didn’t trust them alone in Europe and was very conscious of the limitations Ben and he might have in chaperoning two females. He would have loved to have brought Ellie with them but she reluctantly had to turn down his offer of an all-expense paid trip. July and August was her traditional time to spend with her extended family. While she would have given it up for the kids’ safety, she thought it politic to spend the time with her family now in order to have more time for the runners later, when they would need her.

Brian surveyed his two proteges as they finished getting into their running gear. The normally irrepressible George had been in a bit of a funk in the days before they’d left Pittsburgh, due to his family’s response to the quick visit home that he made before the trip and Ben’s continued reluctance to enter into a full-fledged relationship while George was still a student at the University. Like Kelsey, George thought he should break the news of his orientation to his parents in person. When asked how it went, he’d been uncharacteristically reticent. He simply said “fine” and went directly to his room. His mother had called later that evening, Ellie had reported, and George had engaged in a low-voiced conversation on the hall phone that left him with a tear-stained face, but no more communicative than before. Deciding that drastic measures were needed, Ben had been summoned. With only a couple of days to go until their trip, both of the coaches had been keeping a low profile but Ellie and the girls had decided that George was in serious need of comfort.

(Flashback to the day before leaving for Norway)

Ben had taken one look at the young man he’d grown to care about a great deal and agreed that for once, his finer scruples had to take a back seat. Leaving it to Ellie to keep the others out of the way, he’d quietly asked George to join him out on the porch.

“So, how did your visit home go? Are your parents excited about you running in the Golden League Circuit?” Ben sat down on the old porch swing and motioned for George to join him. The young redhead raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“What? Sit next to you? Is this all it takes? Looking miserable? I’ve been deliberately cheerful as all get out for the past six weeks because I thought you’d like the contrast with your boyfriend and now I find out you like being around miserable men! I should have looked like I was about to off myself weeks ago!”

“That isn’t funny, George. Are you feeling that depressed?” Ben gently asked. He patted the spot next to him again invitingly. “Tell me what happened when you told your parents.”

George instead flopped down on the lounge chair opposite Ben. “My Mom was really upset. She didn’t want to let me see my little brothers. Said it would be confusing for them. But I think she was afraid I would be a bad influence, or worse, didn’t trust me with them. Can you believe that? Like I was some kind of sick pervert all of a sudden. Meanwhile, my Dad, he was quiet. He didn’t say much. Let Mom do the yelling.” He paused and Ben could see his Adam’s apple moving–he looked like he’d dropped several pounds in just the past couple of days.

“George, come here.” Ben reached out his hand as he spoke softly, as though to an wounded animal that he didn’t want to frighten.

“Why? Why now?” He looked at Ben belligerently. “You didn’t want me before. We were close in the hospital and then you stayed away again. Now, what is it? Pity? I don’t want your pity, Ben.”

“That’s good, because I don’t feel any. Now come here.” Ben’s deep voice was implacable and slowly George got up from his seat and took the few steps forward, stepping within the warm embrace that he’d been longing for as Ben pulled him close, wrapping his arms around the slim form and pulling him onto his lap.

“I’m too big to sit on your lap,” George protested unconvincingly as Ben settled back against the swing seat and started a slow rocking motion. Ben smiled his slow, easy smile.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he replied before lowering his head and capturing George’s lips in a kiss he felt he’d been waiting for forever. George reached up and settled his arms around Ben’s neck even as Ben moved his hands lower, caressing George’s lean torso, the firm muscles of his back. When he felt Ben’s hands settle on the muscles of his ass, curving around his buttocks as though made for them, George inhaled sharply.

“Do you want me to stop?” Ben asked, his voice husky.

George looked at him, his eyes bright, his face flushed. “I never want you to stop...but are you okay with this? And if you are...can we go upstairs?”

Ben brought a hand up to stroke George’s face gently. “I don’t play around George. If we take this step...I want us to mean it. If this is just an experiment for you or....”

George lowered his head to Ben’s chest and laughed a little bit, almost hysterically, Ben thought, and he moved his hands to safer ground, rubbing his back soothingly, waiting for him to speak.

“This is so far from an ‘experiment’ for me, Ben. I’ve come out to my family, been willing to give them up if they wouldn’t accept my choice to stay here...with you... and then I came back here and felt like I was back to square one. I...I ...if this is a game to you, or just a one night stand, I’ll still take it because I think I’ll go insane if I don’t have something to hold on to but I really wish you’d give me, give us a chance.”

Ben looked down at the man in his arms and realized, for the first time, what his ethical foot dragging had cost this beautiful young man. He clutched him tightly to his broad chest, his arms closing so forcefully around George’s body that it must have been painful. But the other man didn’t make one sound of protest– if anything, he shifted to get even closer, moving his legs up to wrap them around Ben’s waist.

“I want you,” Ben murmured. “I’ll quit my post as Coach if necessary but you come first from now on.”

“Fuck...” The frantic kissing that George had been doing across Ben’s strong jawline stopped and he raised his head. “No...it can’t be like that. I can’t be selfish and take you from the others. Why can’t you just accept that this is right and good between us and go with that?”

Ben sighed and banged his head against the back of the swing. He closed his eyes for a few minutes and tried to slow his breathing. George looked at him, his own breathing was still fast and shallow, his heart going a mile a minute, like he’d been running his fastest splits he thought ruefully, . Were they ever going to get their act together? George saw the crease in Ben’s brow and made up his mind just as Ben seemed to reach a conclusion.

“George...”

“Ben...”

Ben smiled and waited for George to speak. He was struck anew by how young George was, yet how much more mature and giving he was than Michael. George wanted him, Ben Bruckner, not anyone else, Ben had no doubts on that score, but it was clear that as much as he, Ben wanted it to be right for both of them, George wanted that too. Maybe he was being unfair to make them both wait?

“Ben, I will graduate in six months. Professor Walker has already offered me a graduate teaching position and I’m already taking dual coursework this coming semester, working on my Master’s while I finish my Bachelors degree. If we make it clear to the administration that nothing improper will go on in front of the media or during school hours...how would it be different than any other faculty who are involved?”

“It...wouldn’t be...not really.” Ben tried to think of any reasonable objection.

“I know you’re concerned about the professor, student aspect but I’m not even in your college as a Public Policy and Management major, I’m in the Heinz College, and actually, Justin isn’t either. Not that I’m suggesting you fool around with Justin, I’m just pointing out that he’s in the Fine Arts College and you’re in the Liberal Arts and Humanities. Both of which I have nothing to do with as a last semester senior. So, what I’m saying is....”

“What you are suggesting is a very good idea, and I have a better one,” Ben captured George’s mouth again in a long, slow kiss. After a few seconds, when he had a chance to realize that the kiss wasn’t ending any time soon, George relaxed against him and let Ben control where the kiss went.

“For tonight, if you want, we’ll be two men who care for each other very much,” Ben told him, lifting his head finally. “Then tomorrow, we’ll go back to being Coach and runner and close friends for the rest of the summer. Then I’ll talk to both the Deans of your college and mine, and Professor Walker, about us coming out as a couple. Deal?”

“Deal except we talk to the Deans and Professor Walker...and I don’t know about this caring very much...you don’t have to feel pressured to say it back but I want you to know, I love you Ben. I wouldn’t be going to bed with you with all that’s at stake for both of us if I didn’t.” George’s eyes were as serious as they’d ever looked. Ben’s smile lit up his face as once again he pulled George into his arms. He laughed with the kind of joy that George had promised himself he’d bring to his life..

“There’s no pressure at all, you have no idea how much I was afraid to pressure you! But, even though I’m afraid it will make the weeks of waiting ahead even harder, I can’t resist giving us one night to look back on.”

“No,” George corrected him, “this is to be a night that will give us even more to look forward to.”

With that the two of them went upstairs.

(end of flashback)

In Norway, Justin and George were spending most of their time together, training fiercely for their debut on the International stage. Neither of them had been happy about the inclusion of Warren Pilcher, although he was really the one who ended up being ostracized, since Joe Johnson was good friends with Kelsey from her sprinter days and they tended to warm-up together. Daphne was welcome with both of the duos, but still held a grudge against Pilcher over the incident with Hobbs. Ben wasn’t happy about the situation but he didn’t see any way around it. Brian didn’t see a problem with it–he wasn’t about to force their four Musketeers to befriend a homophobe or racist, and pointed out that the fact that Johnson was biracial might have something to do with the fact that he hadn’t warmed up to his roommate.

“Or Johnson just might not like the guy. Maybe he snores?” Brian had grinned at the frowning Ben.

“If that’s a reason for ostracizing someone, be prepared to be lonely,” Ben had retorted. The two of them had shared a room the night before, having discovering upon their arrival in Oslo that something had happened to one of the room assignments and there were only four rooms instead of the requested five, three doubles and two singles that they were supposed to have. Justin and George were more than happy to suggest switching roommates, a plan that Brian would have been willing to accede to, but Ben quickly kaboshed.

Looking now at a jockstrap clad Justin who was rummaging in his suitcase and a shorts wearing George who was looking under the bed, Brian quickly stepped inside and closed the door.

“I knew this must be the site of the orgy! Live boys! Now! was what the website said and it wasn’t kidding. That really is your best angle, Wilson, and the barebutt cheeks look is particularly fetching, Taylor.”

“Brian! Don’t joke! I can’t find my lucky shorts!” Justin turned toward him, his face slightly panicked.

George lifted his head from under the bed, and sat on the floor, folding his arms around his knees. “Talk some sense into him, Brian. He’s going into full panic mode. I’ve torn apart this whole room twice for him, although how he thinks his running shorts could have gotten out of his suitcase and under the bed....”

Letting his voice fade away, George made a circular motion with his fingers at his temple, to signify what he thought of his friend’s panic.

Brian grasped the situation right away. “So, lucky shorts, huh?”

Justin looked at him seriously, his eyes weren’t quite reddened but Brian thought they looked suspiciously bright.

“I’m guessing these are the only shorts you trust to help you do your best in, huh, because you, like, won a lot of races in them or something?”

Justin nodded while George rolled his eyes. Brian looked at his Rolex.

“Can’t find them anywhere?” Justin shook his head while George sprung from the ground lightly, muttering about “people and their superstitions keeping other people from warming up.”

“Au contraire, Mr. Wilson,” Brian told George, patting that young man patronizingly on the back. “I suggest that while I take Justin to my room to help him christen a new pair of lucky shorts...infusing them with lots and lots of luckiness by ensuring that he gets lucky in them, that you entice a certain Coach in here and make sure he finds you in the same pathetic predicament. And....George?”

George looked bemused as he watched Brian help Justin into a pair of warm-up sweats and head to the door, a brand new, unworn set of running shorts and singlet in his hands.

“Yeah?”

“I recommend the jock strap only look. It is very– convincing. I’ll send him in to you in about five minutes.” With that last comment, delivered with a cocky grin, Brian dragged an unresisting Justin to the room he shared with Ben. He wasn’t surprised to see him there, sitting on the bed reading.

“Joe and Warren are still getting ready. Since it is still really early, I sent the girls down to the shops with Cynthia and told the boys I’d check on them in an hour.” Noticing Justin, Ben raised an eyebrow. “Is everything all right?”

“Some last minute jitters. Superstitious over shorts gone missing, routine stuff. You need to talk to George and calm him down a bit while I convince Justin that it isn’t the shorts on the runner, it’s the short runner in the race. Or something like that.”

“You’re an inspiration to us all,” Ben said dryly. As he got up from the bed, he cautioned, “Don’t wear him out.”

“George is waiting for you...something about lost running shorts.”

Ben huffed a short laugh and shook his head in resignation. “You’re incorrigible,” He told his friend. “I’m beginning to think I blamed the wrong person for messing with the room reservations.”

Brian gave him an innocent look–confirming his suspicions.

“One hour,” Ben said, as he walked to the door and then very deliberately locked it as he closed it behind him. They could hear his pace quicken as he walked down the hall to the boys’ room.

“Sounds like a man whose arm was twisted, doesn’t he?” Brian quipped. Then, his eyes grew more serious as he looked down at Justin, who stood a few feet away from him.

“Come here,” he softly ordered. Taking the few steps closer, Justin stepped into his arms. Brian ran his fingers through the silky blond hair as he talked, nuzzling the sensitive skin of that pale neck and collarbone the whole time..

“You’re much too tense. Some amount of tension is good, keeps your energy high, but I want you to enjoy yourself. Some coaches think that sex before a race is a bad thing. Saps your strength, weakens your legs. I’m going to tell you that’s bullshit. And I’ll let you make a choice right now whether you want to trust me on this, knowing that my opinion is based on vast empirical study, or whether you’d like to get started on collecting your own data.”

“Please,” Justin managed to moan, his head falling back to give better access.

“I’ll take that as a please, yes, go on,” Brian decided. He walked Justin backward to his bed. As soon as the backs of Justin’s knees hit the bed, Brian pressed against his chest lightly, so that he fell back, his legs still against the side of the bed.

“Brian....” Justin looked at him questioningly.

“Ah, I’m the coach. And the purpose of this is to infuse luck into a new running outfit, I believe?” Brian got a wickedly amused look in his eyes. Justin made a face at him, not sure if he liked where this was going. But then again, as his sweatpants were lowered, he wasn’t sure he didn’t like where it was going either!

“I know you think it’s stupid but—Brian!” Justin broke off whatever protest he was going to lodge as he felt his cock engulfed in a hot, wet mouth. He propped himself up on his elbows to watch, wide-eyed, as Brian, kneeling at his feet, proceeded to deep throat him.

“Oh, fuck, Briiiiaaan!” He was sure he wasn’t going to be able to hold out much longer.....

Until Brian applied pressure under his balls like that. He gasped and clutched the bedspread.

“Brian! I can’t run like this,” he said frantically.

Brian pulled his own clothes off quickly. “You won’t have to...trust me. I’m just going to make your wildest dreams come true. He quickly grabbed the singlet and pulled it over his own head . Then he finished stripping Justin and pushed the shorts on him, partway up his thighs. He had to grin at the bewildered look on the blond’s face as he pulled a condom and the tube of lube from the nightstand drawer.

“Isn’t it going to be difficult...” Justin started to ask but he shut up as Brian started to roll the condom onto him.

“No way,” he breathed.

“Way,” Brian confirmed, pushing him up onto the bed so he could straddle him. He reached around to ready himself as best he could but bottoming was not something he was fond of doing. At least from this position he could control the pace and depth. Not that he expected it to take long, he thought whimsically. The look on Justin’s face made him glad he’d decided on this as a way to distract him from his pre-race panic. As he lowered himself down, biting his bottom lip as Justin’s cock breached the tightness of his ass, Brian concentrated on his young lover’s face to take him mind off the discomfort that was unavoidable. Justin looked enthralled, and in turn, Brian was entranced.. Their eyes met, and Brian smiled down into those blue eyes.

“Feeling luckier?” He had to ask, in an effort to lighten the moment, because it was feeling just a tiny bit too intense. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d allowed someone to fuck him.

“I feel like I’ve just won a world record and all the stars are shining just for me, and one just landed in my hand.”

“That sounds pretty lucky. So, want to start moving and see if it gets even better?”

Justin’s slow sweet smile was replaced by his intense, frown of concentration– his frontrunner look, as they all called it. Oh fuck, Brian had time to think before he was treated to the ride of his life.
 

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Brian and Ben stood near some of the other University coaches while they waited for the races to commence.

“You know what George said to me before heading off?” Ben commented, looking down at his notebook, ful of entries about all the competitors their runners were facing, the splits they’d each run most recently, probably their breakfasts and when each one had last had a bowel movement, Brian suspected. He wondered if he should make an entry about his and Justin’s activities, and then found himself flushing at the memory. Perhaps not.

“No, what did George say?” Brian asked obediently instead. Ben looked at him sharply at the uncharacteristic meekness but Brian was looking over the crowd. Ben decided to let it pass. “He said to be sure to point out to you that this must be where the Kenyans have been hanging out all those times they stood you up at practice.”

Brian grinned appreciatively. Indeed, the field of the world’s best distance runners was a who’s who of Kenyan runners as well as Ethiopians.

“There are some amazing runners here today,” Ben looked over at Brian. “Justin does understand that we don’t expect him to win today, doesn’t he?”

Brian grimaced. “Justin has no understanding of that concept, Ben. I did my best to relax him, get him in a good mood, but....”

Ben rolled his eyes. “Did it ever occur to you that fucking him silly might not....”

“I didn’t.” Brian’s quiet words stopped Ben in mid-sentence. Brian was tempted to close his mouth for him but after only a beat, the good professor did it on his own. And not only that, Brian could tell that Ben quickly figured out that Brian wasn’t telling him that he didn’t make love with Justin. He could feel his cheeks burning. Fortunately, Ben merely turned his gaze back to looking at the track, and the athletes congregating for the first race.

Just when Brian was congratulating himself on getting past that sticky subject pretty well, Ben said under his breath, “well, I can’t say that you haven’t laid everything on the line to help with his pacing problems.”

Brian decided it was better to just ignore it; anything he said could and would be used against him by the smirking professor, who was looking far too happy for someone who should have taken the high road this afternoon when he made his own little conjugal visit.

He opened his mouth to make just such an observation to Ben when his friend rushed to add, “and before you say anything, yes, George has a new pair of lucky shorts too, though I’m suspecting I didn’t go quite as far as you did to render his lucky. I guess I owe him.”
Ben turned to Brian and gave him a quick one-armed hug. “I really appreciate all you’ve done, Brian...I don’t know where we’d be without you. Any of us. And I appreciate your standing by me after the whole Michael situation. I know it hasn’t been easy.”

“Don’t worry about it. Mikey gets mad, he get over it. Let’s focus on why we’re here.”

The women’s 1500 meter came first Kelsey was making the switch to distance running, which was much better suited to her body type but she’d been having trouble with pacing. For Daphne, it was her first time competing at this distance. Nothing at the collegiate level would have prepared either of them for European style competitiveness. Brian and Ben had warned them about the roughness, the elbows and shoving they could expect, but both men knew that until their runners experienced it for themselves, they wouldn’t know what it was really like.

Watching from a different area, the four male runners were appalled, and the barriers that had existed between them fell as they watched their teammates struggle just to stay on their feet, much less race.

“This is crazy! That one woman is running way ahead, and the others are just boxing in Daph and Kels so they can’t get clear! Both of them could easily catch up with that woman in white. Where’s she from?” George was incensed.

“Irina Lisinskaya, from the Ukraine,” Justin said, looking down at a program. “So much for not being a front runner. Getting out fast was smart for her, she’s free of that crowd and running her own race.”

“Damn, Daph just got elbowed hard trying to come up on the inside. She’s hurt, you can tell,” Joe winced in sympathy. He was fond of Daphne and wished he could get the four musketeers to expand to five.

“Isgerate just got that girl back,” Pilcher noted with satisfaction. Taller than the others, he could see a little better as the pack of runners rounded the bend. “Looks like the Russian distance runner, Zadorozhnava is taking advantage of that little scuffle with our girls to make a break away and chase down the leader.”

The other three boys looked at him, much as they might look at a statue that suddenly talked, George later told Ben.

“How do you know who that is?” George asked, only slightly suspiciously.

“Internet café,” he mumbled defensively. “Nothing else to do last night.”

They looked at each other self-consciously. The night before, they’d all carb loaded and watched sub-titled movies in George and Justin’s room.

“Thought you were sleeping,” Joe offered weakly.

“No biggie. Anyway, she opened some ground for our girls if they can take it,” Pilcher said quickly, bringing the attention back to the race. Justin noticed that he called them “our girls” but didn’t want to make a fuss. He knew Ben wanted them to reach out to Pilcher. He didn’t think he could do it. In fact, he was pretty sure he couldn’t do it, but he guessed he shouldn’t actively stop the others from tolerating him.

Not befriending him though.

They continued to watch as the gutsy Russian chased down the frontrunner from the Ukraine, even as Daphne and Kelsey fought tooth and nail to break clear of the pack of runners. Daphne was running with her arm to her side and was falling back, while Kelsey dug in and started to let fly with her own elbows. Bit by bit, she made progress up the inside.

But the race just wasn’t long enough. Seemingly waking up to the threat breathing down her neck, the graceful Ukrainian runner burst forward at the finish line to win by a mere thirty-five hundredths of a second. Kelsey came in sixth, a very respectable finish in a field of some of the best, especially considering she was less than a full second behind the winner. Daphne was eleventh, about five seconds back from the top finishers, in a second cluster.

The boys got to them before the coaches did, Justin and George enveloping the girls in hugs while Pilcher and Johnson stood by protectively.

“You did great!” They all agreed, tacitly ignoring the tears of disappointment and anger both girls were shedding. The younger men looked relieved to see Brian and Ben jogging over. Brian almost laughed at the hapless expression on Justin’s face as he held the weeping Daphne.

“Quite a way you have with a pep talk, I see, Mr. Taylor, Mr. Wilson. Guess you don’t need us,” he drawled, nudging Ben as George looked up panicked from patting Kelsey on the back.

“Don’t you dare leave us,” Kelsey ordered, almost back to her normal in control self even as she sniffled her last sobs into George’s hoodie. “You need to tell the boys how not to have that happen to them! And warn Justin not to try to do what Iryna just did because....”

No one got to hear the “because” of why Justin shouldn’t try to do what Iryna did, sadly enough, because just then, the athletes for the men’s 5000 were called. With quick hugs and good luck wishes, the three runners for that event, Justin, George, and Warren Pilcher, ran off to be seeded for their race.

The remaining members of the Pittsburgh contingent looked at each other.

“Well, we’ll always have Paris,” Brian joked, referring to the next stop on the circuit. As Daphne’s tears started up again, he suffered being hit on the arm by Kelsey and Ben

“Hey...you hurt!” he told Kelsey, bringing a reluctant laugh to the group.

As expected, the 5000 meter men’s race was a bit of a mitigated disaster for Carnegie Mellon’s runners. As soon as he saw how the women’s 1500 went, Brian gave up any hope that Justin wouldn’t run a frontrunner race. It just wasn’t happening. But, he still hoped that Justin would place well, as Kelsey had, purely by virtue of his extraordinary talent. In trying to keep up with him, the other two, both of whom had excellent kicks, might do better than expected. He saw Ben grab George and give a word of advice before he left and George nodded then flashed that big grin of his. Brian decided to catch up to Justin–already far ahead of the others–and give a last bit of advice too.

“Hey, wait a sec,” he said, nudging Justin with his hip slightly. That bright smile turned toward him.

“Hey! Thought you gave me all the advice and pep talks you were going to give,” Justin had his determined look back. Defiant, too, Brian thought. Well, he could take part of the nervousness away.

“I have and I did. Now, all I’m saying is, you run the kind of race you feel best with and if it isn’t the kind of race I want you to run, it won’t affect you and me, okay?”

Justin looked like Brian had just taken a thirty pound weight off both of his feet. “Really? You’re okay with me....”

“Wait a sec!” Brian grinned. “I’m still sure that I’m right, no mistake about that. But if you decide you have to learn the hard way, I don’t want you doing it half-assed...be a complete ass about it and go all out. Don’t dawdle along at the front like that Ukrainian wench. Do it like Pre.”

Beaming like a hundred suns, Justin dashed off. George and Pilcher chased after him.

“Steve Prefontaine did abysmally in his first Olympic race, considering his potential. For a long time, he was the despair of his coach, Bill Bowerman due to his inability to not be a frontrunner,” Kelsey commented pensively.

“Yes, but before he died, he’d held the America track and field record for every distance from the 2K to the 10K, so who’s to say who is wrong. He didn’t believe in giving less than his all,” Brian said, watching the slim young blond stretch as he waited at the starting line. He and George looked so fair next to all the Kenyan and Ethiopian runners. Even Pilcher, a tanned, hard-muscled young man, stood out among this group of mainly African runners.

In addition to the elbowing and shoving, we’d warned the guys that they could expect the well organized Kenyan team to use a “rabbit” to help their leader to a world record pace. Justin had reminded them all of his relative newness to the sport when he’d looked blankly at Ben and asked, “how do they get away with allowing an animal on the track?”

It was kind-hearted Kelsey who’d explained, while the rest were laughing, that a” rabbit” was a term for a fast runner, a sprinter really, who set the fast pace for the earlier part of the race, and then dropped back or dropped out, while the leader took over.

“In our case, we just call that person, ‘Justin,’” George teased.

But, in this race, that comment was proving true. The Kenyan rabbit dropped out fairly early on, perhaps realizing he was redundant, as the blond American runner was setting the record pace, not him.

Moreover, the three fastest Ethiopian runners were close on Justin’s tail, while their lead hopeful, Kenenisa Bekele, was staying back for the first 3K. Brian held his breath as he checked the times for the splits. They were just under world record pace. At the 4K mark, Kenyan’s Sammy Kipketer decided to challenge Justin for the lead. George and Pilcher were just behind, boxed in with Bekele behind them, and a cluster of three runners keeping them from the inside.

That was when, with only six hundred meters to go, Bekele just turned on the juice, and went around the entire cluster. George and Pilcher, hitting their own kicks, followed his lead, and started to reel in Kipketer and Justin. Another runner came up with an amazing kick, all the way from the back of the pack, and he too pressed forward to challenge the two leaders, as did a second young runner from Kenya, Eliud Kipchoge.

With two hundred meters to go, Justin’s pace started to falter, but he held on for the most part. Brian could tell from the look on his face that he was digging deep, even as he was passed by Bekeke, and then Kipketer. Lastly, Kipchoge just managed to get past, with the smallest of margins, but Justin finished fourth, ahead of George in fifth and Pilcher in eighth.

“They did better in practice,” Kelsey commented. “We all did, well, except Joe. He still has to run. Why are we messing up?”

“You’ll all do better next time,” Brian assured her. “They just did fucking amazing, almost a world junior’s record, which the guy in third did set. So I’m pretty happy with the results so far and you should be too.”

“You’re just say...” Kelsey stopped. Brian grinned.

“Just remembered who you were talking to, huh?”

She smiled ruefully. “Well, you aren’t known for mouthing pleasant platitudes, I’ll grant you that.”

“I only mouth....”

“Brian,” Ben said warningly.

Brian tried to look innocent. And failed. Paris was next on the agenda. For running. As far as his agenda for that night, he planned on capturing a certain young running star in his bed, and trying for some world records of his own that night, even if he had to steal all of Ben’s shorts this time to achieve it.
 

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