#goes to the olympics fairly young as opposed to dropping out for injury.

[youssefguedira]

have a little more fencing world champion joe. because it's worlds again and olympics soonish. enjoy

The clock on the nightstand changes from 01:36 to 01:37, and Joe sighs, rolling over to stare up at the ceiling. Nicky, beside him, shifts in his sleep but doesn't wake.

Joe, however, has been awake since at least 12:08, and feels far too restless to sleep. It's almost certainly jet lag: they're in Chicago for a little while, visiting Nile and her family, and largely trying to enjoy the last little bit of free time they have left until training begins again in earnest. Of course, Joe's kit bag is lying open at the foot of the bed, and Nicky's beside it: just because they're not formally training doesn't mean they won't need it at all.

Still, Joe can't sleep. He sighs again, and gives up on trying to do so entirely. Maybe he'll be able to find some time to rest tomorrow, though he doubts it. Nile's got a lot of things she wants to show them, and Joe would ordinarily be thrilled, if he wasn't so tired.

It'll pass, Andy told him, though she doesn't seem to have been affected by it at all. He's almost certain they'll meet her in the morning for breakfast and she'll be exactly as normal, as if they haven't just crossed multiple time zones. Even Nicky, who hadn't struggled nearly as much as Joe had, had begun to slow down some time around midday, but Andy had been fine.

He gets out of bed, careful not to wake Nicky, who's rolled onto his side facing the door. With nothing else to do, Joe makes his way to the little balcony attached to their room, picking up his phone from the nightstand on the way. The sliding door squeals a little when he opens it, but when he looks over at Nicky he hasn't even moved.

While it's certainly quieter than it had been before, the city is nowhere near silent. It's beautiful, though, and Joe takes a picture to send to his sister.

She texts him back immediately. Pretty, but isn't it like the middle of the night for you?

1 am, Joe responds. Jet lag.

His phone lights up with a call then, but not from Amira. He reads the contact name and answers, heart in his throat.

Oof, is Amira's response.

He almost drops his phone when he realises what they're calling him for.

By the time they hang up, his hands are shaking: he stays like that, phone still pressed to his ear even after the call has ended, for at least a few minutes.

Finally, at a loss for what else to do, he lowers his phone and goes back inside. Sits down on the edge of the bed.

The movement is just enough to wake Nicky, who blinks a few times before sliding into awareness all at once, the way he always does. He sits up, leaning against the headboard, pushing his hair out of his eyes. "Joe?" he asks, voice still slightly hoarse from sleep. He frowns when Joe doesn't answer straight away. "Is something wrong?"

"No," Joe says. Fidgets with his phone, screen now dark, still in his hands. "Uh. They want me for the Olympic team."

Nicky is silent for all of a split second before his expression breaks into a wide smile. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Joe can't keep himself from smiling now, either, as Nicky cups the back of Joe's neck with one hand, leans in to press their foreheads together. Joe closes his eyes.

"Of course they do, Joe," Nicky says then. "You're the best in the world right now. You're going to be incredible."

There are times when that doesn't quite feel real, even if it's been a while.

"You'll come with me?" Joe asks.

"Always," Nicky says. Then he pulls back and kisses Joe's cheek, his forehead, the space between his eyes, until Joe laughs.

"I love you," Nicky tells him.

They'd met fencing épée, of all things. Andy had invited the seven of them – they hadn't quite been friends yet, but Joe had known Quynh for a couple years by then, and Andy too, while Nicky had already known Nile – to train with her and Quynh for a while, and Joe couldn't possibly refuse, because Andy was both his friend and one of the best coaches in the world back then. She'd made them all switch to a weapon they didn't usually use, and Joe and Nicky had picked épée: Joe because he figured it would be easier than restricting his target area to the torso only, and Nicky because épée was far closer to foil than sabre. They'd been about evenly matched, and it had been – well, it had been fun.

Joe had left a week later with Nicky's number in his phone and a small, fluttering hope in his chest. And even if they hadn't kept in touch very well those first few months, when the World Championships came around, and Joe had qualified for the second time, Nicky had joined Andy to meet him at the airport, grinning widely when he caught sight of him.

The rest, as they say, is history.

"I love you too," Joe says.

"You want to tell the others?" Nicky asks.

Joe looks at him for a moment. Looks at the clock. "It's 1 am, Nicky. Andy will kill us both."

Nicky snorts. "In the morning, then?"

"In the morning," Joe agrees.

Neither of them end up going back to sleep until 4 am, and they're both exhausted at breakfast the next morning, but. It's worth it.