Christmas Drabble: The Wait (Michael Phelps/Devon Lochte; PG-13; 1/1)
Fic: The Wait
Author: dorianslover
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: D. Lochte/Phelps
Song: The Chipmunk Song (Christmas Don't Be Late) [DeeTown Rock Mix]--Alvin & The Chipmunks
Disclaimer: none of this happened; don't claim the boys; the usual.
Summery: Devon Lochte has firmly convinced himself that if he stares at the jewelry box-shaped present under the tree that it will either A) levitate towards him or 2) unwrap itself.
Christmas, Christmas time is near,
Time for toys and time for cheer.
We've been good, but we can't last,
Hurry Christmas, Hurry fast.
Want a plane that loops the loop,
Me, I want a Hula-Hoop.
We can hardly stand the wait,
Please Christmas don't be late.
~"The Chipmunk Song (Christmas Don't Be Late)"--Alvin & The Chipmunks
Devon had firmly convinced himself that if he kept staring at the small wrapped box beneath the Christmas tree that somehow the white ribbons would unwrap and reveal whatever was housed within the confines of the blue wrapping paper. Or, maybe, if he stared at it long enough, it would simply levitate towards him and he could unwrap it himself. So he kept sitting cross-legged in front of the lit Christmas tree, staring unblinking at the box.
Finally, he sighed in defeat. It wasn’t happening. So he looked around, making sure Michael was nowhere to be found and he rocked himself forward onto his knees. He slid his upper torso towards the box, reaching out his hands to grab it. On the couch, Herman raised his head and growled at Devon. The younger Lochte turned his head sharply towards the bulldog, glaring. “Fucking dog,” he muttered as he slithered back. He sat back down and crossed his arms in annoyance. “I would have had it had it not been for you,” he complained, staring at the box.
What could be in that thing? It was shaped a bit like a jewelry box, the type you get from jewelry stores, but it was too big to be a ring. It wasn’t the right shape to be a bracelet; it was taller than it was longer, and a bracelet box would be longer than it was taller. Maybe it was a pendent or something; maybe a really awesome keychain-with keys attached, of course. Devon kept thinking. Maybe it was a kick-ass belt buckle.
Maybe it wasn’t jewelry at all; maybe it was just the keys to a car. A Ferrari might be nice. Or a Porsche. Or even a Lexus. No. He wanted something hot-like a Lamborghini. Or even a Dodge Charger. Or a Chevy Corvette. Or an Escalade, like Mike had. He would love an Escalade-black and black with chrome accents. He would have all the guys jealous and all the girls swooning-and then he would get to break their hearts by showing up to the club with Michael Phelps.
Devon just had to know! He rocked forward to his knees again and stretched towards the box again. Herman raised his head and growled again, warning him to stay away from the wrapped boxes beneath the tree. When Devon didn’t draw back right away, he barked. Devon looked back to the dog and frowned. “Shh! Shut up! You’re gonna wake up Mike!” he whispered harshly.
“Mike’s already awake,” Michael pointed out as he strolled down the stairs of his Baltimore flat. “Stay away from those!”
Devon made a face and pushed himself to his feet. “But Mike! Tomorrow’s Christmas! Come on… can’t I just open one of them early?” he whined, trying to look as cute and as innocent as possible.
“No! Those are for tomorrow!” Michael answered with a shake of his head and a crooked grin. “It’s not working on me, Lochte.”
Devon huffed. He looked back to the tree then back to Mike. He shoved his hands into the front pouch of his hoodie and made a cute puppy face. “Please?” he asked again.
“Nope,” Mike answered coolly, walking over to the kitchen. Behind him Devon whimpered. “Come on, we gotta go. I’m gonna be late.”
“But it’s cold!” Devon whined. He drug himself behind Michael and pulled his hands from his hoodie, wrapping his arms around his waist. “Can’t we go back to the bedroom? Where it’s warm? And play, I don’t know, ‘Santa’s Helping Hand’ or something?”
Mike just grinned smugly to himself. “No, we’re playing that tonight. Wouldn’t want you to get bored with it,” he commented, turning his head to the side to look over his shoulder towards Devon. The younger swimmer’s face lit up like the tree that stood some distance behind him. “Just have some patience! I’ll make it worth it. Promise.”
Devon pouted for a moment. “Fine.” He rested his chin on Michael’s back and readjusted his hold of his waist. He was warm and sort of damp-must have just come from the shower. He smelled incredible and Devon turned his nose into the long-sleeve cotton shirt he had on.
The phantom moans still littered the air of the bedroom late into the night and early into the morning. Devon lay awake, staring at the wall as Michael snored softly into his shoulder. Devon shifted under the mountain of covers and pushed back against Michael. How could anyone live in these conditions? It was far too cold here! Devon sought out the warmth from the other swimmer’s body and he ducked down until the covers covered up to his eyes. Michael reached out and grabbed his waist, pulling him close and nuzzling his nose into his shoulder. Devon abruptly stopped moving. The snoring behind him as ceased and he felt a set of lips press light kissed along his skin. “Go to sleep,” Michael slurred, letting his head drop back down. He nuzzled his chin into Devon’s shoulder and the younger swimmer had to bite back giggles-fucking giggles! The hair of his beard tickled his skin and Devon bit on his bottom lip. After a moment, the urge died down and he let go of his lip, staring at the wall again as Michael’s gentle snoring began to fill his ear again.
This would be his first Christmas with Michael-no, this was his first Christmas with Michael. It worried him a bit. What if he got this wrong? What if he had bought the wrong the thing for he man who had everything? Or what if… Devon snorted. This was ridiculous. He was worrying about some rather stupid shit. He knew that Mike would love whatever he gave him. He had, quite literally, grown up around Michael. He knew him and he loved him. It just felt… different this year. He wanted it all to be perfect. Devon closed his eyes and tried to go to sleep, holding tight to the arms that encircled him.
With Herman contently chewing on a new bone at Michael’s side, a wrapping bow stuck to the top of his head, Devon could finally reach for the box beneath the tree. He looked up to Michael. The elder swimmer just grinned and took a drink from the coffee mug in his hand, keeping his eyes on Devon. He looked down at the box in his hands and set it down in front of him as he pulled on the bow, watching it delicately unravel. The ribbon fell to the floor and he picked the box back up. He looked to Michael and began to unwrap the box. He was slightly afraid to look down from the glint in Mike’s eye. When he finally did, he found himself holding a very signature baby blue box. Devon felt his mouth go dry. He slowly opened it and his eyes grew wide. Inside was a watch. Not just any watch; the watch. The band of the rectangular watch was white gold and completely encrusted in diamonds, both round and square-cut. The face was white gold with silver numbers, silver hands, and the brand name ‘Tiffany and Co’ written in black. “Oh, my God,” Devon breathed. He carefully weaseled the watch from it’s confinements, afraid to break the damn thing! He looked back up to Michael and he lit up like fireworks.
“Hold it. Look under the box,” Michael told him. Devon cocked his head.”Turn the box over!”
Devon looked down and carefully turned the box over. Taped to the bottom of the box was a pair of tickets to… “Lil’ Wayne!!” Devon looked up to the couch again and barely scrambled to his feet before diving on top of Michael. The other swimmer yelped and moved his coffee out of the way; he still wanted that! He laughed in his throat as Devon began to devour his mouth with kisses while Herman looked at the discarded coffee mug beside him with great interest. He got to his feet and began to lick at he warm contents inside. Devon wrapped his arms tightly around Michael’s neck, holding onto him as he pressed kiss after kiss to his mouth. “Thank you baby,” he mumbled out of the corner of his mouth. He didn’t have time to stop.
Michael’s hands went to the curve of Devon’s ass and he held onto him. “You’re welcome, baby,” he responded when he got the chance to breathe. “Just don’t tell-“ he didn’t get a chance to get the whole sentence out before Devon dove back in for round two of kisses, and this time, he was shoving his tongue down his throat with every brief kiss. Michael just grinned.
Previous Drabbles:
This Christmas Day (Eric Shanteau/Aaron Peirsol)
Winter (Ian Crocker/Eric Shanteau)
Author: dorianslover
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: D. Lochte/Phelps
Song: The Chipmunk Song (Christmas Don't Be Late) [DeeTown Rock Mix]--Alvin & The Chipmunks
Disclaimer: none of this happened; don't claim the boys; the usual.
Summery: Devon Lochte has firmly convinced himself that if he stares at the jewelry box-shaped present under the tree that it will either A) levitate towards him or 2) unwrap itself.
Christmas, Christmas time is near,
Time for toys and time for cheer.
We've been good, but we can't last,
Hurry Christmas, Hurry fast.
Want a plane that loops the loop,
Me, I want a Hula-Hoop.
We can hardly stand the wait,
Please Christmas don't be late.
~"The Chipmunk Song (Christmas Don't Be Late)"--Alvin & The Chipmunks
Devon had firmly convinced himself that if he kept staring at the small wrapped box beneath the Christmas tree that somehow the white ribbons would unwrap and reveal whatever was housed within the confines of the blue wrapping paper. Or, maybe, if he stared at it long enough, it would simply levitate towards him and he could unwrap it himself. So he kept sitting cross-legged in front of the lit Christmas tree, staring unblinking at the box.
Finally, he sighed in defeat. It wasn’t happening. So he looked around, making sure Michael was nowhere to be found and he rocked himself forward onto his knees. He slid his upper torso towards the box, reaching out his hands to grab it. On the couch, Herman raised his head and growled at Devon. The younger Lochte turned his head sharply towards the bulldog, glaring. “Fucking dog,” he muttered as he slithered back. He sat back down and crossed his arms in annoyance. “I would have had it had it not been for you,” he complained, staring at the box.
What could be in that thing? It was shaped a bit like a jewelry box, the type you get from jewelry stores, but it was too big to be a ring. It wasn’t the right shape to be a bracelet; it was taller than it was longer, and a bracelet box would be longer than it was taller. Maybe it was a pendent or something; maybe a really awesome keychain-with keys attached, of course. Devon kept thinking. Maybe it was a kick-ass belt buckle.
Maybe it wasn’t jewelry at all; maybe it was just the keys to a car. A Ferrari might be nice. Or a Porsche. Or even a Lexus. No. He wanted something hot-like a Lamborghini. Or even a Dodge Charger. Or a Chevy Corvette. Or an Escalade, like Mike had. He would love an Escalade-black and black with chrome accents. He would have all the guys jealous and all the girls swooning-and then he would get to break their hearts by showing up to the club with Michael Phelps.
Devon just had to know! He rocked forward to his knees again and stretched towards the box again. Herman raised his head and growled again, warning him to stay away from the wrapped boxes beneath the tree. When Devon didn’t draw back right away, he barked. Devon looked back to the dog and frowned. “Shh! Shut up! You’re gonna wake up Mike!” he whispered harshly.
“Mike’s already awake,” Michael pointed out as he strolled down the stairs of his Baltimore flat. “Stay away from those!”
Devon made a face and pushed himself to his feet. “But Mike! Tomorrow’s Christmas! Come on… can’t I just open one of them early?” he whined, trying to look as cute and as innocent as possible.
“No! Those are for tomorrow!” Michael answered with a shake of his head and a crooked grin. “It’s not working on me, Lochte.”
Devon huffed. He looked back to the tree then back to Mike. He shoved his hands into the front pouch of his hoodie and made a cute puppy face. “Please?” he asked again.
“Nope,” Mike answered coolly, walking over to the kitchen. Behind him Devon whimpered. “Come on, we gotta go. I’m gonna be late.”
“But it’s cold!” Devon whined. He drug himself behind Michael and pulled his hands from his hoodie, wrapping his arms around his waist. “Can’t we go back to the bedroom? Where it’s warm? And play, I don’t know, ‘Santa’s Helping Hand’ or something?”
Mike just grinned smugly to himself. “No, we’re playing that tonight. Wouldn’t want you to get bored with it,” he commented, turning his head to the side to look over his shoulder towards Devon. The younger swimmer’s face lit up like the tree that stood some distance behind him. “Just have some patience! I’ll make it worth it. Promise.”
Devon pouted for a moment. “Fine.” He rested his chin on Michael’s back and readjusted his hold of his waist. He was warm and sort of damp-must have just come from the shower. He smelled incredible and Devon turned his nose into the long-sleeve cotton shirt he had on.
The phantom moans still littered the air of the bedroom late into the night and early into the morning. Devon lay awake, staring at the wall as Michael snored softly into his shoulder. Devon shifted under the mountain of covers and pushed back against Michael. How could anyone live in these conditions? It was far too cold here! Devon sought out the warmth from the other swimmer’s body and he ducked down until the covers covered up to his eyes. Michael reached out and grabbed his waist, pulling him close and nuzzling his nose into his shoulder. Devon abruptly stopped moving. The snoring behind him as ceased and he felt a set of lips press light kissed along his skin. “Go to sleep,” Michael slurred, letting his head drop back down. He nuzzled his chin into Devon’s shoulder and the younger swimmer had to bite back giggles-fucking giggles! The hair of his beard tickled his skin and Devon bit on his bottom lip. After a moment, the urge died down and he let go of his lip, staring at the wall again as Michael’s gentle snoring began to fill his ear again.
This would be his first Christmas with Michael-no, this was his first Christmas with Michael. It worried him a bit. What if he got this wrong? What if he had bought the wrong the thing for he man who had everything? Or what if… Devon snorted. This was ridiculous. He was worrying about some rather stupid shit. He knew that Mike would love whatever he gave him. He had, quite literally, grown up around Michael. He knew him and he loved him. It just felt… different this year. He wanted it all to be perfect. Devon closed his eyes and tried to go to sleep, holding tight to the arms that encircled him.
With Herman contently chewing on a new bone at Michael’s side, a wrapping bow stuck to the top of his head, Devon could finally reach for the box beneath the tree. He looked up to Michael. The elder swimmer just grinned and took a drink from the coffee mug in his hand, keeping his eyes on Devon. He looked down at the box in his hands and set it down in front of him as he pulled on the bow, watching it delicately unravel. The ribbon fell to the floor and he picked the box back up. He looked to Michael and began to unwrap the box. He was slightly afraid to look down from the glint in Mike’s eye. When he finally did, he found himself holding a very signature baby blue box. Devon felt his mouth go dry. He slowly opened it and his eyes grew wide. Inside was a watch. Not just any watch; the watch. The band of the rectangular watch was white gold and completely encrusted in diamonds, both round and square-cut. The face was white gold with silver numbers, silver hands, and the brand name ‘Tiffany and Co’ written in black. “Oh, my God,” Devon breathed. He carefully weaseled the watch from it’s confinements, afraid to break the damn thing! He looked back up to Michael and he lit up like fireworks.
“Hold it. Look under the box,” Michael told him. Devon cocked his head.”Turn the box over!”
Devon looked down and carefully turned the box over. Taped to the bottom of the box was a pair of tickets to… “Lil’ Wayne!!” Devon looked up to the couch again and barely scrambled to his feet before diving on top of Michael. The other swimmer yelped and moved his coffee out of the way; he still wanted that! He laughed in his throat as Devon began to devour his mouth with kisses while Herman looked at the discarded coffee mug beside him with great interest. He got to his feet and began to lick at he warm contents inside. Devon wrapped his arms tightly around Michael’s neck, holding onto him as he pressed kiss after kiss to his mouth. “Thank you baby,” he mumbled out of the corner of his mouth. He didn’t have time to stop.
Michael’s hands went to the curve of Devon’s ass and he held onto him. “You’re welcome, baby,” he responded when he got the chance to breathe. “Just don’t tell-“ he didn’t get a chance to get the whole sentence out before Devon dove back in for round two of kisses, and this time, he was shoving his tongue down his throat with every brief kiss. Michael just grinned.
Previous Drabbles:
This Christmas Day (Eric Shanteau/Aaron Peirsol)
Winter (Ian Crocker/Eric Shanteau)