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“We're back with the men's high bar and next up is Neil Josten with the US men's team. It's been a real treat to watch all of his routines here at the Beijing Olympics, but the high bar is undoubtedly his best apparatus.
“There's his open–he starts strong and doesn't back down! He understands how to build momentum and keep a steady pace. Watch how he's chaining together those moves, there. A lot of points in that kind of combination.
“And his release moves! Oh! Brilliant, really. The way he approaches each release like he has no fear at all, I think, is what really gives him the ability to hit those moves! Wow! Yes, that will definitely boost his score there, too.
“Josten has been picking up fans steadily since he burst onto the scene two years ago, really making a name for US men's gymnastics. Clean, clean lines. He's got gold in his sights and he's not going to sacrifice even a fraction of a point–
“Oh! Oh, no, ouch. He misses the bar, he's on the ground, no, that does not look good. He's–he’s, the medical team is coming in swiftly here, they'll check him out, let's give them a moment.
“There is that element of danger, of course, with those release moves. One wrong move, being off just by a moment, it–
“Teammate Andrew Minyard is crossing the mats, he's right there now too. He’s–Josten’s trying to get up, it looks like he wants to finish his routine, but his teammate–
“Josten's not getting up. We're going to give them a minute but folks, it looks like we might have all just watched gold slip through his fingers.”
*
“I'm not an invalid, I can get my own water!”
“You're an idiot.” Andrew calmly held out a water bottle, and, with a giant sigh, Neil accepted it.
“The doctor said I'm supposed to be active after the surgery,” Neil tried.
“The doctor said you need to alternate periods of rest with periods of movement and you just sat down three minutes ago after roaming the house for an hour and trying to convince me you could go for a ‘little’ jog.” Andrew tossed Neil a controller and sat down on the couch next to him.
Neil frowned, but he took the controller. “Feels like I've been sitting for three years.”
“Don't think you can pout your way out of this one.” Andrew switched the TV on and loaded their current game of choice onto the screen. He was close enough that their thighs pressed together. “You know what Coach said, ‘if–’”
“‘–If you ever want to get up on that high bar again, you'll take this recovery as seriously as you take your training.’” Neil recited Coach Wymack’s words, which he had repeated no less than six times in the two hours he had visited with Neil in the hospital.
“Correct.” Andrew never took Coach’s tone. He was matter of fact. “Broken body parts don't appreciate it when you try to make them move like they did when they were whole.”
Neil appreciated the lack of a lecture. Between Coach and Kevin, he’d had his fill. “I don’t think I’ve even been whole.”
Andrew’s only reaction was to push their thighs closer together. His body heat radiated from his shoulders to Neil’s.
“And I’m not going to say something like you made me whole,” Neil countered his unspoken statement. On screen, his character flailed for a moment, though, and that was enough for him to stumble and lose the round.
Andrew shrugged as the next round loaded. “I wouldn't say that two incredibly broken pieces make a useful whole.”
Neil thought about the last two years he had spent training with Andrew and the rest of the team. He'd come to the Foxhole Court Gym scared and alone and ended up with friends for the first time in his life.
He'd ended up with Andrew.
He had come to the gym broken in spirit and now he was out of the gym, physically broken.
The knowledge that he might never make it back into the gym was a heavy weight on his chest. He was useless.
His injuries burned, his left shoulder aching and pain making its itchy way down his legs.
Neil stood up, ignoring the lightning flash of pain that crackled in his core, his controller on the couch. “I've rested enough for now.”
“Like hell you have.” But Andrew didn't force him to sit back down.
When the pain had settled enough that Neil could move, he made his way through the house to the back door.
Fresh air helped.
So did Andrew's subtle but substantial presence at his back. Neil sucked in a deep breath, the crisp fall air filling his lungs and his fingers twitching with a sudden need to have a cigarette between them, if only to hold.
They watched the leaves from the maple tree in the yard fall, blood red and dark.
“A walk sounds good,” Andrew said to no one in particular. He nudged Neil's slides over.
One of the more frustrating parts of Neil's recovery had been the restrictions on bending over. So simple tasks like putting on his shoes became off limits.
Not that he hadn't tried.
But slides solved that problem for now. Neil slipped on the sandals and followed Andrew down to the sidewalk.
Of course he'd rather be jogging, but with Andrew at his side, the slow walk was tolerable.
“Look, Mrs. White took down the haunted dog house.” Andrew pointed to the yard down the street. “Guess it only took scaring thirty kids and giving an old man a heart attack to reconsider it.”
“I thought it was cute.” The animatronic dog that came charging out of the haunted dog house was not cute at all and probably three hundred percent cursed, but Neil had laughed when they had been walking with Kevin and it jumped out and Kevin nearly vaulted over Andrew.
It had been the first time Neil had smiled since the accident.
Andrew took Neil's hand and squeezed it. They continued their slow walk around the neighborhood until Neil's body was starting to protest every step in a way he couldn't simply ignore.
Even then, sitting down back at the house immediately replaced pain with if you sit around, you'll never do gymnastics again.
Neil groaned. Not loud. Not long. Just enough to take the edge off his thoughts.
“You think you'll never get on the high bar again if you take time to recover,” Andrew noted as he sat down next to Neil, handing him a bowl of dinner. “While ironically making choices that will keep you from getting back to training.”
“I know!” Neil's voice was sharp. He tried to calm the animal raging in his chest, tried not to lash out. “It's fucking unbearable!”
Andrew knew it wasn't directed at him, so he just pressed their thighs together, his body warmth the only thing Neil could cling to. It tethered him to the eye of his storm, and Neil clung to that shred of calm.
The winds swirled around him, thoughts building again. Useless. Lazy. Not trying hard enough. Unlovable.
Andrew's hand was on his face. Holding him. Fingers unbelievably soft despite the calluses of their sport.
“Neil.”
Another tether. Another chance for a single breath to make its way into Neil's deflated chest.
A single word, but filled with all of the subtleties that only Andrew could convey.
“Yes,” Neil choked out, barely just caging the rage in his heart.
Andrew put out one fire with his kiss, soothed the pain in Neil's chest, and ignited a new one deep in his core.
***
Two years ago, when Neil had first walked into the Foxhole Gym, known for training athletes who couldn't afford the fancier facilities, Andrew had slid a cool glance his way and Neil's skin had prickled with the knowledge that after that, Andrew never took his eyes off of him.
He had assumed it was because Andrew hated him. There was no reason for him to hate a relatively unknown gymnast like Neil, but it wasn't like he had ever been around someone who loved him, let alone liked him.
Hell, Neil would have settled for someone who tolerated him. The bar was low.
“Warm ups,” Coach Wymack called, clapping his hands. “Andrew, do not even think about hazing the new guy.”
“Coach.” Andrew looked up with a blank, almost innocent stare. “Do you really think that's my only move?”
Neil kept to the edge of the mats, one eye on coach and one eye on his new teammates as they started warm ups.
It was still a dream to have been recruited for the US team, but Neil had only ever known nightmares. He knew this dream would fade, too, bright colors bleeding into the listless grays of a new nightmare to navigate.
But not the first day.
They stretched all together and then the assistant coaches took them in small groups for practice. Neil ended up with Andrew and Kevin, a gymnast he'd admired since learning his name.
Their coach was Dan, a woman no more than a few years older than him with a multi faceted smile that said she was wiser than her lived years.
“C’mon,” she said. “We’ve got a busy day today showing Neil what we're all about. That means no scathing critiques until at least tomorrow, Kevin, and Andrew, just. Be normal.”
“My normal or your normal?” Andrew inquired as if that was a very normal thing to say.
“As long as you're consistent,” Dan replied.
Neil had the feeling this was a regular conversation between them.
“And if he sucks, I'm going to tell him he sucks,” Kevin added, crossing his arms.
Honestly, if Neil couldn't keep up, then he had no place here anyhow. His specialty was the high bar, though, and Kevin was already sending him judging looks as they went through pommel horse drills.
“Why are you here?” Andrew asked. His fake innocence was grating.
Neil put on his best glare. “To win gold at the Olympics.”
Andrew was not impressed. “With skills like that?”
“Andrew said it, not me.” Kevin’s expression was way too smug for a guy who had only just gotten back to training after a hand injury.
“Guys.” Dan put her hands on her hips. “This is hardly the warm welcome we–”
“Nah.” Neil dismounted the pommel horse. “It's a fair question.” He faced Andrew directly. “I'm here to win gold on the high bar.”
“Right.” Andrew glanced at Neil and then at the high bar. “Knock yourself out.”
Neil didn't care that Dan started to admonish Andrew again. He grabbed his grips and stalked over to the bar, pushing a springboard in place and using it to jump up and reach the bar.
He took a deep breath. The tingling on his skin let him know Andrew was still watching.
So Neil started his routine. A few swings around the bar to get used to the movement, and then a handstand. Switch hands. Swing back down. Get the rhythm. Fling himself into the air. Catch the bar with a satisfying twang.
Nothing compared to the satisfaction of defying gravity, letting go of that thin bar, and catching it as gravity started to pull him back down.
Nothing compared to the soft inhales from the people watching when he released the bar, the exhales of relief when he didn't fall.
Neil never fell.
He spun a few more times, gathering momentum to dismount with a double flip, sticking his landing and saluting Andrew as if he'd give him a score.
Andrew watched him with an unreadable expression.
“Neil.” That was Dan, shaking her head. “There will be time to show off later.” But she didn't look upset.
“Oh, we might actually win gold this year,” Kevin said, just barely loud enough for Neil to hear.
*
Andrew left Neil alone for the next two weeks, choosing to join assistant coach Allison's group and sending his twin brother Aaron to Dan's group.
“I'm not going to complain,” Dan said, shaking her head. “You actually listen.”
Aaron snorted.
Neil had learned a lot about his teammates over the last two weeks. Aaron was only on the team because of some sort of deal with Andrew, but he was studying to be a doctor.
Kevin demanded perfection for not only himself, but others. And he was damn good at parallel bars despite his recent injury. Neil was impressed, anyhow.
Nicky was apparently related to the twins, but Neil hadn't bothered to remember how. He liked Nicky's energy on all of the apparatuses, though he needed to learn to focus it if he wanted a chance to medal.
Seth scowled a lot but kept to himself, which wasn't saying much considering that, besides Nicky, no one was particularly chatty.
And then there was Andrew.
He was a lot of things. Surprisingly talented on the rings and the pommel horse, and had more than one risky vault.
But most of all, he was always staring at Neil. In a way, it had given Neil a sense of safety, like having a reliable spotter.
Not that he could picture Andrew racing across the mats to catch him, never mind that spotting didn't even work like that.
“Stay focused,” Kevin snapped at him. “Let's go.”
“I am focused,” Neil shot back, but he pushed his thoughts about Andrew to the back of his mind and got back to work.
That evening, in the locker room, Neil found himself cornered by Andrew. Technically, he had three inches on him, but Andrew's compact, strong presence more than made up the difference.
“What?” Neil asked, staring Andrew down. “I thought we didn't talk.”
“That's too boring.” Andrew pointed to Neil's long sleeved workout clothes. “Modesty runs in your religion.”
“I'm not religious and I like long sleeves.”
Andrew raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Yeah, ok.”
“Is that it?” Neil asked. He thought about pushing past Andrew, but something compelled him to let the situation play out.
“Makes me think you're hiding something. And if you have one secret, then you have another.”
“I'm not following your logic.” Neil did have secrets, sure, but so did everyone. “The only thing I'm guilty of is having shitty parents.”
Andrew relocated his gaze to Neil's arms, as if he could see through the fabric. A charge, almost imperceptible, crackled through the air between them like the shifting of a storm.
“Let me guess.” Andrew pushed at one of the armbands he always wore. Neil had never paid them any mind, assuming they were for forearm support. That opinion changed rapidly as Andrew revealed the top of several silvery scars. “Your arms look like this.”
Neil shook his head. “Not quite.” He paused. “Does anyone know about yours?”
“No one who matters.” Andrew kept his gaze steady on Neil's face. “And yours?”
Neil couldn't hide after Andrew had so openly shared himself. He glanced to make sure that their teammates really were gone, and then pulled off his shirt, hesitating only for a second.
He knew what Andrew was seeing for the first time. The scars that twisted across his abdomen. The mark of an iron raised in silent, furious anger. And countless more than he cared to remember. The ones that came back in his nightmares.
“Where'd you get those, then?” Andrew sounded almost bored, a relief from the countless people who had almost started crying when they saw his body. As if they were the ones who had gone through it.
“I told you. Shitty family. And I got tired of watching people's faces when they noticed them.”
“Shitty family,” Andrew said. “You should ask Aaron about his mother sometime.”
“You're twins. Isn't she your mother too?”
“Not anymore.”
“Fair enough.” Neil went to pull his shirt back over his head, but Andrew held up a hand. “What?”
“Nothing,” Andrew finally said.
“Pretty expressive silence for nothing,” Neil replied, but he didn't push.
“This was nice,” Andrew said as they walked out of the locker room like they were friends or something. “I like when you're honest.”
Neil rolled his eyes. “I'm always honest.”
Andrew kept pace with Neil as they walked out of the building. “So when you said you're here to win gold on the high bar, you weren't bragging.”
The evening air was cool. “I know I have to keep training if I want to win. That's why I'm here.”
They didn't linger outside, but after that day, Andrew switched back with Aaron and even occasionally listened to Dan's instructions during drills.
That was the only change, at first. A week later, Andrew pulled Neil aside in the locker room again.
“We're going out tonight.” Andrew gestured to the rest of the team.
“Ok?” That didn't change Neil's evening.
Andrew held out a bag to Neil. “You're coming with.”
“I don't go out,” Neil said, taking the bag from Andrew nonetheless.
“Come on,” Nicky said from the side. “If you waste this outfit I got you, I'll be devastated.”
Aaron and Seth said nothing, but they didn't look pissed that Neil would be coming along on the team's night out, so that was something.
“It's technically a team bonding event,” Kevin said. “Good for morale. That's what Allison would say.”
“Kevin just likes to have an excuse to get drunk during training,” Nicky translated.
That was true, tomorrow was one of their rare true days off, no gym time or recovery activities scheduled.
“I don't drink,” Neil countered.
“So come and hang out!” Nicky grinned. “Andrew’ll appreciate it.”
For some reason, Andrew sent Nicky a deadly look and Nicky shrugged, but he held his hands up in repentance.
“Fine,” Neil said. “I'll come.”
Nicky cheered, albeit silently, Kevin seemed to approve, Aaron went to his locker, Seth wandered off saying something about seeing if Allison was going out, and Neil thought he saw the hint of a smile on Andrew's lips, one that didn't have any of the mocking sarcasm of most of his smiles.
It left Neil surprisingly warm given how long it had been since practice ended.
*
“You've really never been to a club before?” Nicky was incredulous when they headed out from the gym. This was after he'd complimented Neil on his outfit and received another stare of death from Andrew.
“Why would I go?” Neil asked, completely seriously.
“To have fun? To see hot girls? Hot guys? Drink? Let loose?” Nicky ticked the options off his fingers.
Neil’s frown was mostly puzzlement. “I don't really do any of those things. They're not necessary.”
“Oh god. You sound like the least fun parts of Kevin and Andrew mixed together when you say things like that.” Nicky sighed and collected himself, asking Aaron a question about some Kathryn or Kaitlyn or something.
Neil wasn't sure how to reply to Nicky's comment anyhow. He was mostly focused on the outfit Andrew had supplied him with: a shimmery dark gray, long-sleeved, shirt and black pants with slashes and fishnets showing through. The boots were sturdy, at least.
He'd never received a gift like this before. If that was what this was. A gift. Or maybe it was Andrew not wanting to be seen in public with Neil in his oversized long sleeve T-shirts and shorts he wore when he wasn't in his practice clothes.
Either way, Neil liked the soft fabric of the shirt more than he expected, and somehow, he liked the looks Andrew sent his way. They were different from the way he looked at him in the gym.
Andrew led the way to the car, unlocking it and getting into the driver's seat.
“What about Seth?” Neil asked, counting seats versus athletes.
“Oh, he's already gone with Allison,” Nicky replied. “He doesn't like to squish in the backseat.”
When Kevin tried to open the front passenger door, Andrew locked the doors again, not unlocking them until Kevin moved to the back.
“Seriously?” Kevin grumbled, getting into the middle. Nicky crowded him in on one side and Aaron slid in on the other, leaving Neil to sit up front.
The drive wasn't far, but it gave Neil time to study Andrew's face as he drove. In the backseat, Aaron and Kevin started a conversation about some potential point combinations and Nicky interjected here and there with pleas to talk about anything except the gym for one evening.
Andrew didn't say anything. He did turn up the music loud enough to make their conversation impossible to follow.
A few minutes later, they were pulling up to a large club, a line snaked around the side of the building.
The music was muffled by the doors, but blasted loudly whenever someone entered. It was a sensory overload, but Neil decided it was worth a try.
He stayed close to Andrew as they made their way to the door, gaining access as soon as the bouncers saw Andrew and Aaron.
“Get a table,” Andrew ordered when they were inside. “I'll get drinks.”
Neil entered the chaos, pulled in by the sounds and colors. Purples and blues streamed across Andrew's back as he headed into the middle towards the bar. Kevin nudged Neil towards the side, where they were able to find a recently vacated table.
“Now what?” Neil asked.
Nicky gestured to the club as if it was self explanatory. “Now we have fun!”
Andrew showed up shortly after with drinks as if to demonstrate. Aaron, Nicky, Andrew, and Kevin slammed down their first drinks, Aaron and Nicky taking a second shot before getting up to dance. Kevin looked at the drink by Neil, and Neil pushed it over.
“Do you dance?” Neil asked Andrew as Kevin got up and headed off after finishing Neil's drink.
“Sometimes. Kevin doesn't.”
It was hard to hear Andrew over the music. Neil had to lean in. “He just went to dance.”
“No, he went to go pine,” Andrew corrected him.
Neil didn't want to know the details. He fell silent, watching Andrew take another sip of his drink.
Honestly, Neil realized it was nice. Everything was loud enough that he wasn't stuck in his head. He thought he saw Seth and Allison dancing at some point. He sat back and waited for Andrew to finish his drink.
“Stop staring at me,” Andrew said, just soft enough for Neil to imagine he heard it.
Neil watched the club for another long minute, a blur of bodies and noise. At some point, Andrew stood up and gestured to the crowd. Neil followed.
Andrew's presence had the crowd moving around them, the slightest buffer meaning they never got bumped or had to jostle for a spot.
“I don't know how you ended up here,” Andrew said, in that barely audible voice. Maybe he was just talking at his normal volume. “But, I think I'm happy you're here.”
Something ran through Neil's body, a tremor stronger than the bass and brighter than the lights. He couldn't name it, so he just nodded, acknowledging the truth of Andrew's words.
“I think I'm happy I'm here too.”
*
When they finally left in the early hours of the morning, Andrew brought everyone to a house that apparently he owned with his brother and cousin. Neil was too tired to care about the specifics, he just found a spot in the living room to lie down and he slept, dreaming about Andrew.
*
When he woke up the next morning, his body was still tired, but his mind was buzzing. He decided to go for a run, and was startled when Andrew showed up from the kitchen. Despite the sun spilling into the windows, he hadn't heard anyone else moving around.
Neil gestured to his shoes. “Was just going for a short run.”
Andrew looked from Neil's shoes to his face. “Make it a medium length walk and I'm in.”
They walked the neighborhood together, Andrew leading the way around the various blocks. Neil had a feeling if Nicky was here, he'd be narrating stories about all of their neighbors.
He was a little glad Nicky wasn't there.
Instead, he walked with Andrew up and down sidewalks. There was no need for tedious small talk. They talked about what they wanted and were quiet in between.
“So, gymnastics,” Neil said after a while. “How’d you end up here?”
“You tell me first,” Andrew replied.
“The gym was the only place I could escape to. I needed a reason to spend hours there. I fell in love with the feeling of flying through the air, making my body move in the direction I wanted it to.” Neil looked up to the sky. “Spinning, twisting, turning. I didn't have to think about anything else.”
“Shitty family as a training inspiration. Been there, done that.”
Neil remembered the scars Andrew had shared. “So that's why you're in gymnastics too?” he prodded ever so slightly.
“Nah. I had my choice in juvie. Play murder lacrosse or flip around a bar. I took the one more likely to kill me.” Andrew grinned, showing most of his teeth. “Satisfied with that answer?”
“Mostly,” Neil said. “Is that still why you're training?”
Andrew shook his head. “No.”
Neil couldn't help but push his luck. “And why were you in juvie?”
Andrew put his finger on Neil's lips. “That is a story for another day.”
*
It was just one week later that Andrew came over to Neil after practice and pressed something small and solid into his palms.
“For the house,” he said.
The key was still warm from Andrew's pocket, and its outline tingled in Neil's hand.
When Neil had come to train at the Foxhole Gym, he hadn't expected much. He had just wanted the chance to go for gold.
And somehow, it seemed, he had found a piece of a home he never had along the way.
***
When Neil woke up the next day, his injuries protesting his every move, the thoughts he had had yesterday rushed back in.
Unlovable. Lazy.
The pain in his shoulder alone made him gasp when he pushed himself up to sitting, and his legs throbbed like he'd ran an untrained marathon instead of taken a leisurely walk with Andrew.
Andrew had already gotten up and was presumably downstairs. Neil thought about calling for help out of bed so he could start moving, but the stubborn, miserable streak that was stuck in his chest made opening his mouth not an option.
He slowly and painfully slid to the end of the bed, planting his feet on the ground. The sun reflected off a piece of tarnished metal on the carpet and Neil blinked at it for a few moments before realizing it was his key. It probably had gotten knocked down last night, he thought. He nudged it with his foot into reach, and picked it up.
He smiled at the familiar weight in his hand, that familiar shape as he curled his fingers around it.
For some reason, relief broke through his chest, running through him like a river. Andrew had given him this key, Andrew had taken his hand, had kissed him, had given him everything he could.
He wasn't going to give Neil up for a setback like this. Why had Neil ever let himself think otherwise? Though the alarm bells at the back of his mind tried to buzz again, he beat them back as he set the key on the bedside table and laid back down.
Sleep overtook him easily.
He woke up again an hour later. Andrew must have come up to check on him because there was a cup of still warm coffee and a breakfast sandwich waiting for him.
Neil ate, feeling loved and grateful. His legs were still aching and his shoulder sore, but it was a bit easier to ease himself off the bed this time. He brought the dishes downstairs and spent a few minutes on his feet cleaning in the kitchen before heading into the living room to rest.
“Are you actually sitting without a struggle?” Andrew came in from the back door and sat down next to Neil, making sure their thighs were pressed together.
The couch beneath them was more worn than it had been the first night Neil had slept on it two years ago, but it was still plenty comfortable.
“I realized I need to treat this injury like my training,” Neil sighed. “And I'll never get back on the bar if I don't rest occasionally.”
“Ah. Who are you and where did Neil go?” Andrew deadpanned.
“I said occasionally.”
“Of course.”
Andrew turned on the TV and flipped through the channels until he found some suitable movie. Neil followed along with the plot for a few minutes until Andrew's hand was hot on his thigh and then the rest of the movie was a bit of a background blur.
*
“And, if you're just tuning in, we're here at the 2012 London Olympics. We saw the start of the men's gymnastics competition earlier and now we're about to witness a comeback for the ages.
“It was just four short years ago that we watched American gymnast Neil Josten take a nasty fall on his favorite apparatus. His recovery involved surgery, hours of physical therapy, and even more time training to get back into peak shape.
“And now, he's here to prove himself not just to us, but to himself as well. He's making his way to the bar. I can't even begin to imagine the stress, and yet, he's smiling like this is just a regular day.
“There's the rest of his team getting ready to cheer him on–we saw Aaron Minyard medal on vault yesterday, Kevin Day medal on all around earlier this week, and Seth Gordon missing the podium by a single point. There's their coach, David Wymack, and beside him, Andrew Minyard, the other star of tonight's show. His parallel bars routine shone, earning him the gold.
“Josten gets onto the bar, and he's very steady as he starts his routine–we can only imagine what's going through his mind as he starts with a handstand here.
“And, he's building his momentum here, with those gorgeous lines we're used to seeing from him. And–
“Yes! That was his first release, and there isn't even a second of hesitation. He catches the bar like falling wasn't even an option.
“Moves right into his next move–another release–
“He nails it. Absolutely fearless. And so fluid, impeccable timing. Perfect pacing. Josten reminds the world why he's the one to watch on the high bar.
“Just a few more times around here and then the dismount–double twisting front flip–he lands it! He's saluting the judges and his joy is palpable across the entire stadium. I wouldn't be surprised if they could hear the cheers across the pond.
“His teammates are already crowding him, and there's Dan Wilds and Allison Reynolds–assistant coaches–giving him hugs, and there's, oh it's Andrew Minyard, and–
“It looks like Andrew's saying something to Neil, he's saying something, and the rest of the team is cheering– why do I get the feeling that we may have just witnessed something akin to a proposal?
“And there's Neil's scores coming back, he only needs 14.8 to medal, and he's got 16.2! The gold is his.
“What a journey, folks. From injury to gold, and now his whole team celebrating alongside him. Thanks for watching, the medal ceremony up next and then let's all look forward to the 2016 Olympics in Rio!”