Summer Camp

Garth put the bag of groceries on the counter and was about to start putting them away when an open letter just sitting there next to the bag caught his eye.

"Dear Mr. Grayson,                                                                                                                                        April 27th

Your exceptional abilities in gymnastics have recently been brought to our attention and I would like to take this opportunity to personally invite you to the next Elite Training Camp being held in Colorado Springs in two months time.

This training camp is held regularly three times a year and is a chance for our nation's best gymnasts to train with the finest coaches in an atmosphere of mutual support both from our organization and other top athletes like yourself.

It is from these ranks that we shall select the teams that represent our nation around the world in competition this coming year.

This three-week session is offered on an all expenses paid basis with room, board and airfare from your home city being included. There is also a small weekly stipend to cover incidental expenses.

It is my sincere hope that you will accept my invitation and that we shall have the pleasure of working with you come June.

Please don't hesitate to call should you have any questions at all about either us or the Training Camp.

With warmest regards,

Bill DeCamp

Director Men's Gymnastics

United States Olympic Team

"That's a kick, isn't it?" Dick had just walked into the kitchen and crossed to kiss Garth's mouth, as his hand came around the lean waist.

"Are you going?"

"Shit, no. How could I do something like that? I have a job, two of them, you know."

Garth began to stow the food where it belonged in the various cabinets and the fridge. "How did they find out that you're a gymnast? I mean, as Dick Grayson?"

"The best I can come up with is that they had a scout or something at that Police Olympics I went to a couple of months ago; I guess they must have seen me there. That's the only time I've thrown any real routines as myself in public in years."

Garth seemed a little distracted, but was making an effort at interest. "That would make sense, I suppose. I need a shower, join me?"

"Of course."

Five minutes later the two of them were starting to reacquaint themselves with the entertainment possibilities of a multi-head shower large enough for two when Garth asked, "So if you could get away, would you want to go to this training camp for a few weeks?"

Dick, who was applying himself to the mutual benefits of the shower with more interest than his partner reluctantly answered, "I guess so, but I can't go so it doesn't matter."

"I'm sure that if you spoke to your Captain or Commander or whatever he's called, they would allow it. It reflects well on them, you know."

"Ummm, Garth. Later, OK?"

"Oh…sorry."

An hour later they were sitting in front of the TV watching an old Joan Crawford movie and Dick was trying to explain why it was fun while Garth thought that it was basically a stupid soap opera.

"I think that you should go. You know that you'd enjoy it and you never get to do that sort of thing. Besides it would give you a break from everything for a little while."

He started to basically melt himself into Garth's side. "I don't need a break from everything."

"I meant everything else."

"Could you come with me? You've never been out to the Rockies and they're beautiful."

"You know I can't. I have to go home around then for a couple of weeks to attend to some things." He kissed Dick's forehead. "You should go, Rob."

"I don't know."

"Yes, you do. You just need convincing. You'd love it."

Later that night, after enjoying a private workout that likely shook poor Clancy's ceiling, Garth managed the energy to turn his head to his sated and somewhat sticky lover. "You know, when I have to go home, you'll need another way to get exercise. You should accept that invitation."

"I don't know. It sounds like a lot of sweat."

"You like a lot of sweat."

"Yeah, sometimes. I'll think about it."

"Ummm…well if I come home and you've gotten fat, I'll throw you over for Roy."

"Oh…God!"

The next morning over breakfast the conversation continued. "You know, my grandfather was after me to try out for the Olympic Team the last time I saw him, before he died."

"So, why didn't you?"

"Well, it's not that easy. I mean; it takes like years of training and I'm not really a gymnast, I'm just an acrobat. It's not the same thing. There are a lot more rules about form and stuff in competition gymnastics than what's involved in just throwing some tricks."

"So, don't you think that you could do it?"

"I don't know-I know I don't want to spend like eight hours a day in some gym, six days a week. That's what most of the elites have to do to keep up."

"But this isn't really the Olympic team, it's just a training camp. Why don't you call a couple of the others who've been there already and see what they think of it, see what it really does involve."?

"I guess I could do that, I know some of those guys. Yeah, well, maybe."

"I think you should."

Dick looked across the table with a smile. "You trying to get rid of me?"

Garth's smile met his. "No, I'm trying to keep you."

Dick let that drop before they both blew off their jobs for the day-they were professionals, after all. "I have to go to work."

"Me, too. Come on, I'll walk you out."

Later that day as Garth returned from lunch his secretary handed him the usual handful of phone messages that had built up while he was out. On top was one from Dick asking him to call back. After dialing the cel number, he heard the expected and thankfully calm, "Hello?"

"You called me. Is everything all right?"

"If I decide to do this training camp thing, are you sure that you're really okay with it? I mean you'll be away and you won't be alone?"

He laughed into the receiver. "I can survive a couple of weeks without you, you know."

"It's three weeks."

"Well, I think I can manage that if I have to. You've decided to do it then?"

"I've spoken to a couple of the other guys and the Captain is all right with it. I don't know, it might be fun, you know? I almost never get to really concentrate on just gymnastics and movement and they say the best coaches in the country will be there. I heard that they might even be able to bring a couple of the Russian and Romanian coaches over for a week or two."

"You should do this, you know that you want to."

"But you're sure that you're okay with it?"

Garth restrained himself from exasperation with effort. "Robbie, I told you, I wouldn't even be there. I have to attend meeting sessions with Arthur and the Council then. I'll be a mile underwater."

"And I'll fly into the mile-high city."

"Very funny. Are you going to accept then?"

"…Yeah, I guess that I'll e-mail them tonight when I get home. You'll be there the regular time?"

He started to thumb through the other messages; nothing important. "I should be. Would you like to go out to dinner?"

"Sure. Sounds good." Dick heard some voices in the background. "Robbie, my 2:30 is here, I have to go but I'll see you later, okay?"

"Count on it. 'Bye."

Garth replaced the phone in its cradle. This was good, Rob would be away and he could concentrate on his work back home without any distractions. Good. Picking up another briefing file, he settled onto the office couch to study for a minute before his 2:30 appointment was allowed in.

Dick walked into the apartment about 7:30 to hear the shower running. Quickly stripping down out in the bedroom, he stepped inside the glass door and into the spray, took some soap off the dish and began soaping Garth's broad shoulders while kissing the back of his

neck.

"You seem to be in a good mood."

"Ummm, I thought that I might be able to brighten your day a bit."

"Any time you'd like."

Dick pushed him, face first, against the glass wall, grinding against his now slick back. "Like this? Do you mind?"

Excited by both the surprise and the speed, the impatience, Garth just shook his head and moved his feet apart. Pressing into him almost too quickly, Dick started thrusting almost immediately and came in what seemed like seconds.

Breathing hard, Dick's hand firmly wrapped around his lover's still hard cock, Garth pushed against the glass, leaning there, letting his lover prop himself up against him while he regained the use of his muscles.

Smiling and holding onto Dick's arms around him, "You were certainly ready. Interesting day at work?"

"Ummm." Next he turned Garth around, his back resting against the wall as Dick slid to his knees in front of him and proceeded to use his mouth and tongue to bring Garth to an equally quick and hard climax. Sometimes the old fashioned classics were still the best and the thought made Garth smile to himself as Dick continued to tongue his spent member.

A few minutes later, towel dried and standing in the kitchen while they decided again about having dinner in or out, Dick smiled and almost shyly told Garth "I asked the Captain this afternoon. He's going to release me for a month so that I can go to the training camp. He thinks it will be a feather in his cap if I do well. Well, okay, if I don't embarrass myself."

Garth leaned in for a kiss. "I'm glad you've decided to do this. Really I am. You'll have a ball." His only reply was a raised eyebrow. "Oh, shut up."

"I will miss you, though."

"I know that and I'll miss you, but you'll have a good time and you'll wipe the floor with the others. You know that you will. You've got moves they've never heard of." Leaning closer, Dick kissed his thanks.

"Italian okay tonight? Roma's?" Garth almost never cared where they ate, something Dick took constant advantage of.

"Sure, fine."

Forty-five minutes later they were starting on their food when Garth raised a question he'd been avoiding. "So why do you have reservations about going? It's not really because you can't bear to be away for me for a few weeks, is it?"

"That is part of it-I will miss you, you know. I have trouble sleeping if you're not there." He took a bite of his Chicken Parm. "I don't know, it's just that-I'm really not a gymnast. I can move and do flips and stuff, but I'm not like the others who'll be there. I mean, they've spent years working on technique, sticking landings and form and all that shit. I'm not in that league. I mean, I've never competed for the Nationals or World's or anything. I think that I'll come across like a real amateur."

"They wouldn't have asked you if they didn't think you could meet their standards. They wouldn't waste either the time or the money." He seemed to be studying his eggplant. "You know that." He took a bite and seemed to not love it. "You're just fishing. You know you'll do well. You always do."

Dick felt chastised by Garth. He was right. They wouldn't have asked him if they thought he wouldn't be worth the investment. But still, he was afraid that he would embarrass himself. Besides, most of the other guys going knew each other and had trained and competed together for years. He would be the new kid on the block. God, he hated that. He would never fit in. He'd be the outsider and they would stay in their little groups and he would be the guy who ended up eating all his meals alone.

He knew it and he wished that Garth would understand but he seemed to just assume that everything would be fine and his mind was already moving on to other stuff. His thoughts were back at the UN or whatever he had to go home for in a couple of months. Garth could do that, compartmentalize his thoughts. One minute he would be thinking about some treaty or a meeting then he would flip some mental switch, close that particular box and move on to the laundry or another interview with CNN or something, no fuss, no overlap.

"You finished eating?"

Dick looked up from his plate. "Oh, yeah, sorry."

Garth was handing his credit card to the waitress. A thought occurred to Dick as he watched. "Hey, Garth?"

"Yeah?"

"How rich are you?"

Garth looked at him with a combination of surprise and bemusement. "Did you want to marry me for my money?"

"Yeah, right, that's it. Seriously, I was just wondering. You never seem to think about it and that's usually a pretty good indicator that you have plenty."

"More than you, less than Bruce. Enough."

"And it's all from finding a couple of loaded wrecks?"

"That's part of it. I also have an income from my work and after I acknowledged my birthright, there were some family holdings I ended up with. Why?"

"Well, you don't have to work but you do. You work hard, all the time."

"Of course. Regardless of the size of my bank account, I still need a reason to get up in the morning. I still have twenty-four hours a day to fill. I'm not going to just sit around. Besides, I really do have a responsibility to my country. It's not a free ride."

Dick just nodded as he digested this. Garth was right, of course.

"Rob, what's bothering you? You've been distracted and quiet since you got that letter from that sports federation."

"C'mon, let's walk." He got up and was waiting on the sidewalk when Garth finished signing the bill and pocketed the receipt. They began to stroll down the block. It was a recently gentrified area of the city and there were a number of couples walking on a pleasant evening. The stores were open late tonight and it was a nice way to pass some time.

"It's, I dunno, it's just strange. I mean, this is something that if my parents hadn't died I might have done a decade a go. It's almost as if I'm taking a time warp back to a choice that was made for me years ago."

Garth glanced over at him as they walked. "What are you talking about?"

"When I was a kid, the Romanian sports machine tried to recruit me for one of their special schools. You know, one of these deals where in exchange for room and board and an education of sorts, you win medals for the glory of the state."

"You never did that."

"My parents asked me if I would like to do that but I didn't want to leave home at like eight years old. I wanted to stay with them traveling in the circus."

"So, what? Are you looking at this as some sort of second chance or something?"

"Well, maybe something like that. You know, the road not taken and all. If I had gotten that special training I might have ended up on the Olympic Team. It could have happened."

They crossed the street to the ice cream parlor. They didn't have ice cream in Atlantis and Garth had decided that it was one of the things that made life on the surface bearable.

"Or you might have broken your leg and ended your career."

They ordered a couple of cones, cherry vanilla for Dick and chocolate mint for Garth.

"Yeah, maybe. I can still break a leg, but I've always wondered if I could have gone toe to toe with the really top guys."

"So, go to Colorado and find out."

"Yeah." He was hesitating.

"Dick. This is getting boring. You want to go but you're afraid that you'll be creamed by the other gymnasts and that they won't like you and that you'll have to eat lunch alone."

Dick managed a half smile. Garth knew him inside and out…literally.

"Look, you know that you can do this, you know that you want to do this. So go. When we get upstairs, e-mail this guy who's in charge and accept the offer and then come to bed with me."

The smile got broader. "Well, if you put it that way. OK." He paused. "If you weren't going back to Atlantis then would you be pushing this so hard?"

"No, probably not, but I am going and so there's no real reason for you to stay home alone when you could be having fun-even your boss has agreed so you might as well do it." Garth was nothing if not practical.

* * * * *

Dear Mr. DeCamp,

Thank you for your generous and flattering offer.

I accept your invitation to join you at the Training Camp in Colorado Springs and look forward to meeting and working with you and the other athletes who will be attending.

Sincerely,

Dick Grayson

"There, was that so hard?"

"No, but this is."

"Slut."

"You know it."

"It's one of your finest qualities. Come with me."

"Every chance I get."

The two months between accepting the position at the Training Camp and the actual leaving passed surprisingly smoothly. In fact the two men rarely mentioned either of their upcoming trips and mostly just went about their day-to-day lives. They got up, went to work, did their jobs as well as they could. They would come home and eat their dinner together, they would attend to their Titan and `flying' activities; they made love as often as they could.

Dick somehow never got around to asking Garth what it was he had to go home for. He went home often enough that it wasn't anything that would raise any suspicions or flags and Garth certainly never mentioned that there could be any potential problems. He was his usual intelligent, calm, soft spoken unflappable self.

Finally the evening came when Garth came home to find Dick packing his bag for Colorado.

"What time is your flight in the morning?"

"Nine. I'll have to leave here about seven-you know, traffic and all of that."

Garth nodded. "Can I take you to the airport?"

"You can't drive." He was smiling.

"I know that but I can order a cab." He glanced Dick's way. "You know, I could take your mind off the flight."

"I know you could, but would you mind if I just got the limo from the hotel?" Garth looked a question at him. "There are two others who are travelling with me…I mean…"

"No, it's all right. I understand." Dick didn't want their first impression of him to be gay. He still was a little self conscious about the reactions, much to Garth's usual annoyance but this time he seemed willing to let it go.

"Thanks."

"Are we going out for dinner?" Garth never cared one way or the other.

Dick shrugged a little. "Would you mind if we just stayed here? Maybe order in?"

"Whatever you want. I need a shower, why don't you order what you want-you know what I like."

"Garth? Want me to wash your back?"

He spoke over his shoulder as he walked through to the bathroom, "I'll just be a minute."

Sure enough, five minutes later he was out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel and without having had Dick's company. "You ordered food?"

Dick looked up from the couch and the magazine he was looking through. "Yes. It should be here in half an hour or so."

Garth continued into the kitchen where the sounds of the fridge opening and closing could be heard. A moment later he crossed the room and sat in the large recliner, a bottle of spring water in his hand. "Are you going to tell me what it is about this thing that's really bothering you? I know you don't really care what the other kids at camp will think of you." He sipped the water as he waited for a reply.

Dick didn't answer for a couple of minutes and Garth thought that he wasn't going to when he finally spoke up, quietly and almost as though he were speaking to himself.

"I told you that my grandfather wanted me to try out for the Olympics and I never did. Part of it was that it would have just been such a pain in the ass. I mean, all the training and the hassle with the competitions and coaches and the politics in the sport. Not to mention the complications of having dual nationality." He looked over to Garth to see if he was listening, as if there were a chance that he might have been trimming his nails or something.

"I know all of this. Go on."

"I could have done it, I guess. Bruce wouldn't have given a crap, but I never did. Sometimes I'd think about it when I'd see like the Nationals on TV or something or if I did an exhibition with some of the guys somewhere. But I actually never-really competed against any of them."

"Are you afraid of losing or does winning mean that much to you?"

"No. I don't care about either all that much."

"Well, what then?"

"I'm afraid that I won't do as well as Papa thought that I would. I'm afraid that I'll disappoint him." He looked at Garth again. "I couldn't stand that." Dick's grandfather had died when Dick was fifteen or so, not that it mattered in this.

"I envy you your grandfather." Garth's small smile was on his face as he said that. He'd grown up virtually alone, no family and few close friends. It constantly amazed Dick that he had turned out as well as he had, that he was as loving and kind as he was. Most people who had been through what he had would have shut down completely. "But you

know that you wouldn't have disappointed him. Just knowing that you were invited would have made him proud. You know that."

Dick shrugged. "I guess." Not convinced. "I just want to do well for him, you know?"

Garth got up and knelt in front of Dick, leaning and using both of his hands to frame that incredible face. "You'll do well because you're very good and because you care about what you're doing. Plus, you have more incentive than the others do; you're not just doing this for the medals."

Kissing, Dick spoke into Garth's mouth. "Thank you." The doorbell rang. "Damn."

"Dinner."

"I know."

Garth got up and dealt with the delivery guy while Dick got the forks to eat the veggie lo mein and sesame chicken.

"Do you think that you'll have any problems with the fact that you're a dual national? I mean, you could decide to compete for Romania after the US goes to all the trouble of sending you to summer camp with the big boys."

Swallowing some food, "I don't think that they know. I never bothered to tell them and no one has asked."

"That could be pretty amusing."

"Could be. You know, sort of an ace in the hole if someone annoys me. I could take my marbles and get out of Dodge."

"To Transylvania."

"Yeah, well, I'll suck you later."

"Count on it."

The next morning the two did what they could to straddle the line between making it as normal a morning as possible and making it a special day. Early morning lovemaking was followed by breakfast at the local diner they both liked and then Garth had his car drop Dick at the local hotel where the limo would take him to the airport. Sitting in the back seat behind the heavily tinted windows, they embraced, kissing one another deeply.

Breaking away, Garth put his hand up to Dick's cheek and jaw in a last caress, said, "Be careful. I love you", watching as his lover walked to where the other two gymnasts were waiting to share the ride.

Garth would be leaving later that afternoon to travel back to Atlantis. Dick knew that he would be gone and that there would be no problem with his lover moping around missing him with nothing to do, and they both knew where the other could be reached.

The first week passed with a few e-mails exchanged between the two. Dick was so tired after three times a day training sessions that all he was good for after was a shower, dinner and bed. Even being in the kind of shape that he kept himself in wasn't enough to protect him from the exhaustion that they all suffered from for the first few days.

He wrote to tell Garth that he was pleasantly surprised to find that he could pretty much hold his own with the others, even the guys who had world medals, even with the national champions. He was even more surprised that they seemed to like him just fine. They would ask him to join them at the lunch tables or for a pizza after the last workout until after a few days he was just part of the gang.

He had even managed to stop the show one day while working on the high bar, always his favorite apparatus. Thinking that the others were all busy doing their own routines, he had thrown a tuck quad as his dismount-and stuck it. Activity in the gym had simply stopped while everyone asked everyone else if they had just seen that. Thinking that it was a lucky fluke, the head coach had asked him to repeat. He had-five times in a row.

Now Dick had been doing the trick since he was eight years old, but it seemed that he was the only one in the world who could pull that one off outside of a circus. There were only two other guys in the world who could do it at all, and not as well or as consistently as Dick could, and besides that-they were a couple of Russians. After that he had ceased to be one of the newbies and the old-timers had made a point of asking him if he had any other surprises up his sleeve. Needless to say, he did, and didn't mind showing the others how he did the stuff he did. A couple of them could even almost attempt a few of his tricks without breaking bones but none of them could actually pull them off-at least not yet.

The other thing that he had which the others couldn't match was that he was a born performer, raised in the circus and taught by professionals almost from the cradle how to connect with a crowd and please an audience. He could have given tutorials in that part of

things. He had a genius for it and the coaches asked him to share some pointers, if he didn't mind. He didn't.

Damn! He was doing it, he was going toe to toe with the best and was more than holding his own.

Garth was pleased and not at all surprised when he read the reports that Dick sent him. Evidently, his abilities and his natural friendliness had won out. Again. It was no surprise and Garth was pleased and proud, as he always was when it came to just about anything Dick did.

Good.

It would be another two weeks before he would return to the surface. He would continue to contact Dick when he could and he would look forward to whatever messages would come from his lover. Two weeks during which he should be able to fulfill the obligations that his position as prince of the realm demanded of him.

At the end of those weeks he would go back to the home he and Dick had made together. He would ask questions and be proud and talk and make love and they would be fine with one another, reconnecting as they always did after a separation.

When Dick finally asked what he had been doing, how his trip back home had gone, he would answer ambiguously, make jokes and laugh.

Everything would be fine and then they would continue with their lives and their work.

The quiet voice behind was deferential. "Your Highness, forgive me. It's time."

He nodded without turning then stood and crossed over to the door. It was Wednesday. It was the day the priests had decreed the one to be most favorable for the upcoming ceremony. Rearranging the heavy court robes, he squared his shoulders and left to go to the temple where the stranger, the princess he had been bound to for political reasons, waited to marry him. He was expected to leave her pregnant with an heir so that the succession would be secured.

He was a servant of the crown, and he would do what was required of him.

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