Here I Am: Lochte/Phelps (R) 2/3
Title: Here I Am
Pairings: Lochte/Phelps
Rating: R for adult language/content
Disclaimer: Although I may wish it was real, it's not!
Notes: Thank you once again to my girls Kizzy7 and Wonderjessi for letting me bounce my ideas off of you and for muddling through my grammar :-*. Also, the lyrics that appear in this chapter are from the Leona Lewis Song titled "Here I Am" which obviously serves as inspiration for this fic. Also, there is quite a bit of angst in this chapter so be prepared!
~Chapter 2~
Why is it so bright? It’s never this bright at 5:30 in the morning. Wait. Where am I? Why am I sleeping on top of the covers? Where’s my fucking pho- Okay. Who’s licking me? Michael slowly sat up in his bed, his mind still groggy from the unexpected wake up call coming in the shape of his two year old bulldog, Herman.
“Hey there buddy. Did you miss your dear old dad? Yes… well he missed you too.” Michael never understood why he always took on such a babying tone when he talked to Herman. Maybe it was his lazy smile and knack for drooling on everything that made him so loveable.
He plopped back onto his bed with a soft sigh, making room for Herman to curl up beside him before glancing over at the red digits of his clock radio. 12:30. PM? Is it really possible to have slept for almost sixteen hours? Oh well, maybe he could add another world record to his list of achievements... While this train of thought continued in Michael’s head for several more minutes, he suddenly stopped and sat up rather violently, almost with enough force to knock Herman out of his bed.
Shit. Ryan’s here. Ryan fucking Lochte is here in Baltimore and we snuggled last night. He’s supposed to be in Gainesville, snuggling with some new girlfriend he racked up in Beijing. Not here. Not in my bed. Michael calmly reminded himself that this wasn’t the time to be freaking out and that really he had nothing to freak out over. It was perfectly normal for a guy’s best friend to show up out of the blue, give him a massage (that, even though Michael would never admit it out loud, was probably the most calm and relaxed he’d felt in almost three months) and then stayed the night curled up with him. Right, perfectly normal.
“C’mon Herman, I think a shower is in order.” He chuckled softly as his lazy four-legged friend hopped out of bed and sauntered over to the bathroom as if he knew exactly what Michael needed to clear his head. Before any race, before any press conference, before any awkward “next morning” Michael always found himself retreating to the warm comfort of water. It was something about the steam and the healing pressure from his shower head that gave him the confidence to face any situation he found himself in.
Unfortunately, this time when he stepped into the tiled shower all he could think about was the feeling of his best friend’s hands on his skin. How wonderful it felt to have his powerful thighs wrapped around Michael to keep him grounded, to quiet his fears. It wasn’t until he felt his own fingertips slide along his growing erection lightly that he stepped out of the spray of the hot water and instantly turned the dial to cold. I’m not gay. Ryan’s not gay. Neither us will ever be gay with each other. Thank God Ryan’s not gay. Not that I’m gay. Not that we would ever... Mike. Stop it. Seriously.
Michael stepped out of the shower after letting the ice cold stream of water work its magic on his almost painfully hard cock. After completing his morning routine without even one thought about Ryan’s perfectly shaped lips, he finally made his way down the hallway. He was greeted with an eerie silence that he normally would have welcomed after the past five weeks, but this was Ryan. Ryan wouldn’t have just up and left. His fears were quieted when he saw an arm come flying through the gap between the sliding glass doors leading out to the balcony. Michael slowly shook his head and offered Ryan a quick wave to let him know that his announcement of “present” had been received.
Growwwwl. Michael’s stomach always had a way of interrupting his train of thought with its own form of protest. In order to shush his demanding digestive organ, Michael set off for the kitchen in search of sustenance. While munching on some slightly stale Fruit Loops - note to self: must go shopping! - Michael’s eyes caught a glimpse of the notebook Ryan brought with him almost everywhere he went. It usually contained several doodles and random sketches of bizarre shapes or raindrops turning into fish, but the page staring up at Michael had only words. In the top corner were the initials MP and the phrase: How do I tell him? Beneath that there were several stanzas of what appeared to be a poem or song of some sort. Michael knew it was an invasion of Ryan’s privacy but he couldn’t help himself.
This is a crazy world
These can be lonely times
It's hard to know who's on your side
Most of the time
Who can you really trust?
Who do you really know?
Is there anybody out there
Who can make you feel less alone?
Some times you just can't make it on your own
If you need a place where you can run
If you need a shoulder to cry on
I'll always be your friend
When you need some shelter from the rain
When you need a healer for your pain
I will be there time and time again
When you need someone to love you
Here I am
If you have broken dreams
Just lay them all on me
I'll be the one who understands
So take my hand
If you reach emptiness
You know I'll do my best
To fill you up with all the love
That I can show someone
I promise you you'll never walk alone
Well if you need a place where you can run
If you need a shoulder to cry on
I'll always be your friend
When you need some shelter from the rain
When you need a healer for your pain
I will be there time and time again
When you need someone to love you
Here I am
Everybody needs somebody who
Keep a heart and soul in two
Well if you need a place where you can run
If you need a shoulder to cry on
I'll always be your friend
When you need some shelter from the rain
When you need a healer for your pain
I will be there time and time again
When you need someone to love you
Here I am, Here I am
Before Michael could even process the words in front of him, Ryan waltzed into the room, naturally wearing his board shorts at a provocatively low level without a shirt to cover his tantalizingly seductive washboard abs and rock hard -whoa, what the fuck is going on?.
“Hey man, sorry about that. My mom called and you know how she gets. I’m seriously considering never living with a woman past 45. She told me she was going shopping for a new ‘upholstered piece’ for the living room. Who the fuck says that? I’m pretty sure the word ‘couch’ would have sufficed.” Ryan cut his story short when he noticed how pale Michael looked and how his eyes kinda looked like he’d been caught committing some sort of crime and he was trying desperately to come up with an excuse for whatever it was he was doing. “You all right man?”
“Huh? Oh yeah.” Michael quickly stepped away from the notebook glaring up at him accusingly and came around the bar to stand in front of Ryan, crossing his arms over his chest in a statement of innocence. “I’m just, you know… really hungry.”
“Well, duh. You slept for like, ever. Add that to your seemingly always growling stomach and we have the makings of a disaster. Just let me go grab a shirt and we can head out. I was thinking we could go down to the pier to that restaurant you like. They have those killer crab cakes. Well, not like killer crab that could eat you… that would be weird….” Ryan continued his seemingly nonsensical monologue as he made his way back to the bedroom, returning several moments later with a form-fitting plain white t-shirt. Damn that thin cotton. Damn his beautiful... Never mind.
“You ready?” Michael couldn’t believe how shaky his voice had become. It wasn’t like he was taking Ryan to the prom. It was just lunch. And this certainly wasn’t a date. He quickly grabbed his phone from the kitchen counter and walked to the front door, avoiding eye contact and even the most basic form of conversation almost the entire way out to his now dusty Escalade parked in his building’s garage.
*
Ryan wouldn’t have thought anything of Michael’s odd behavior if it hadn’t extended past lunch. His friend was always pretty quiet during meals and if it was the first one of the day, then nobody had any hope of getting a word out of him. But now they were walking down the pier, each devouring his own three scoop waffle cone and Michael still hadn’t spoken a word of any substance. Ryan quickly reached out to wipe away the melting ice cream from Michael’s cone before it could reach his fingers, licking the cold liquid from his thumb in an unconsciously seductive manner.
Michael jumped just slightly when he felt Ryan invade his personal space and was then forced to suppress a moan to watch his friend do things with his mouth that Michael could only wish he would do to his body. Stop it. Seriously. Remember, you are not gay.
“Dude, you’ve been jumpy all fuckin’ day. I can’t come within a foot of you without you freaking out. Did I do something…?”
Michael considered the forked path that lay out before him. He could either tell his best friend that he’d read something that was probably meant for Ryan’s eyes alone and that he was actually vain enough to think it was about him. Or he could just ignore the whole situation and feign an illness of some sort to explain his odd behavior. He opted for the former.
“Are you gay?” Michael hadn’t meant to be so abrupt, but it was the only question he could come up with to broach the subject.
Ryan stopped suddenly in his tracks, the look of confusion was pretty adorable to Michael, but he couldn’t focus on that. Right now he had to get answers. He had to figure out what the hell was going on between the two of them.
“What are you talking about? Where the fuck is this coming from?” Ryan also hadn’t meant to be so abrupt, but he’d had other plans to bring up the subject. It involved candlelight, flowers, maybe even Lil’ Wayne playing in the background. It certainly did not entail a public discussion for anyone to hear. Plus it wasn’t very romantic.
Michael released a soft sigh, ducking his head down before he could summon up enough courage to tell Ryan he’d practically been snooping in his private things. “I saw that poem you wrote Ryan. I know I shouldn’t have read it. What’s even more fucked up is that I shouldn’t have automatically thought it was about me… I just wanted to know. I mean, if you are gay and if you like me-“
Ryan quickly interrupted Michael, “It was about you. Your questions last night kind of freaked me out man. You just seemed so lonely, so scared and all I could think was that I wanted to make it better for you. I wanted you to feel safe and that you could trust me with anything. You know that, right Mike?”
“You used the love word Ryan. People don’t just use the love word…”
“This is what you choose to focus on Mike? Of course I love you. You’re my best friend. You’re the only person in this world that gets me and doesn’t judge me for all the crazy shit I pull.” Ryan quietly reached out for Michael’s hand, his fingers tentatively intermingling themselves with those of his best friend. “But if you wanted more…”
This was where Michael had a real decision to make. He took the path more traveled and pulled his hand away from Ryan with a harsh cruelty that was even a bit intense for Michael himself. “What the fuck makes you think I would want more? I’m not gay Ryan. I like girls. I fuck girls.”
“Are you just trying to save face here Mike? Because we can go home and talk about this…”
“This isn’t about being in front of people, Ryan. It’s about the fact that I’m not a fucking fag like you. I thought you were more of a man than that Ryan.”
“More of a man? You can’t seriously be taking that route right now Mike.” He leaned in closely to whisper against his friend’s ear, not wanting to embarrass him in front of the small group of onlookers that seemed particularly interested in their discussion. “Were you being more of a man every time you hugged me for just a second longer than most would? Were you being more of a man every time you took any excuse to touch me, to hold my hand, to tangle your fingers in my hair? Were you being more of a man when you smiled at me… God that smile Mike, you have no fucking clue…”
“And I don’t want to have any fucking clue, man. There’s nothing there. You must have just imagined it along with all of the other crazy shit floating around in that fucked up head of yours. You really ought to consider giving up the pot man, it’s fucking with your mind.”
Ryan took a long step back, examining the type of man his friend had turned in to. He simply couldn’t believe the hatred in his eyes or the tense and defensive stance he held. As if Ryan was going to try to convert him by any means possible. “Why are you so scared Mike? Why does the thought of you and me terrify you so bad? Is it because you know that we would be so fucking perfect together? I would make you so Goddamn happy Mike. But that wouldn’t work for you, would it? You always have to be so fucking miserable, don’t you? Well fine. Here’s your chance to really see what it’s like to be lonely. I’ll find my own way back home.”
Michael clenched his jaw as tightly as he could without breaking his own teeth. He could barely muster the courage to glance up at the strangers who had been listening to their entire argument. Great. I can already see the first story of the six o’clock news “Swimming phenom Michael Phelps in heated spat with his gay lover.” He knew he should have gone after Ryan, he should have apologized for being so cruel, but his pride wouldn’t allow for it right now. Right now he needed to get the fuck out of here and find something strong enough to kill the ache of regret building in the pit of his stomach.
*
When Michael finally returned home several hours later he expected… well he didn’t really know what he expected. What he found was so utterly heartbreaking that he had to sit on one of the barstools lining the kitchen counter to keep from collapsing in disbelief. Sitting in isolation on the dark marble was the very same poem that had started the whole fiasco this afternoon. Beneath the handwritten lyrics was another stanza. Only this time it wasn’t filled with words of love.
Don’t call, don’t write.
Delete me from your life.
You’re not worth all of this bullshit.
I loved you with everything inside of me and you broke my fucking heart.
Pairings: Lochte/Phelps
Rating: R for adult language/content
Disclaimer: Although I may wish it was real, it's not!
Notes: Thank you once again to my girls Kizzy7 and Wonderjessi for letting me bounce my ideas off of you and for muddling through my grammar :-*. Also, the lyrics that appear in this chapter are from the Leona Lewis Song titled "Here I Am" which obviously serves as inspiration for this fic. Also, there is quite a bit of angst in this chapter so be prepared!
~Chapter 2~
Why is it so bright? It’s never this bright at 5:30 in the morning. Wait. Where am I? Why am I sleeping on top of the covers? Where’s my fucking pho- Okay. Who’s licking me? Michael slowly sat up in his bed, his mind still groggy from the unexpected wake up call coming in the shape of his two year old bulldog, Herman.
“Hey there buddy. Did you miss your dear old dad? Yes… well he missed you too.” Michael never understood why he always took on such a babying tone when he talked to Herman. Maybe it was his lazy smile and knack for drooling on everything that made him so loveable.
He plopped back onto his bed with a soft sigh, making room for Herman to curl up beside him before glancing over at the red digits of his clock radio. 12:30. PM? Is it really possible to have slept for almost sixteen hours? Oh well, maybe he could add another world record to his list of achievements... While this train of thought continued in Michael’s head for several more minutes, he suddenly stopped and sat up rather violently, almost with enough force to knock Herman out of his bed.
Shit. Ryan’s here. Ryan fucking Lochte is here in Baltimore and we snuggled last night. He’s supposed to be in Gainesville, snuggling with some new girlfriend he racked up in Beijing. Not here. Not in my bed. Michael calmly reminded himself that this wasn’t the time to be freaking out and that really he had nothing to freak out over. It was perfectly normal for a guy’s best friend to show up out of the blue, give him a massage (that, even though Michael would never admit it out loud, was probably the most calm and relaxed he’d felt in almost three months) and then stayed the night curled up with him. Right, perfectly normal.
“C’mon Herman, I think a shower is in order.” He chuckled softly as his lazy four-legged friend hopped out of bed and sauntered over to the bathroom as if he knew exactly what Michael needed to clear his head. Before any race, before any press conference, before any awkward “next morning” Michael always found himself retreating to the warm comfort of water. It was something about the steam and the healing pressure from his shower head that gave him the confidence to face any situation he found himself in.
Unfortunately, this time when he stepped into the tiled shower all he could think about was the feeling of his best friend’s hands on his skin. How wonderful it felt to have his powerful thighs wrapped around Michael to keep him grounded, to quiet his fears. It wasn’t until he felt his own fingertips slide along his growing erection lightly that he stepped out of the spray of the hot water and instantly turned the dial to cold. I’m not gay. Ryan’s not gay. Neither us will ever be gay with each other. Thank God Ryan’s not gay. Not that I’m gay. Not that we would ever... Mike. Stop it. Seriously.
Michael stepped out of the shower after letting the ice cold stream of water work its magic on his almost painfully hard cock. After completing his morning routine without even one thought about Ryan’s perfectly shaped lips, he finally made his way down the hallway. He was greeted with an eerie silence that he normally would have welcomed after the past five weeks, but this was Ryan. Ryan wouldn’t have just up and left. His fears were quieted when he saw an arm come flying through the gap between the sliding glass doors leading out to the balcony. Michael slowly shook his head and offered Ryan a quick wave to let him know that his announcement of “present” had been received.
Growwwwl. Michael’s stomach always had a way of interrupting his train of thought with its own form of protest. In order to shush his demanding digestive organ, Michael set off for the kitchen in search of sustenance. While munching on some slightly stale Fruit Loops - note to self: must go shopping! - Michael’s eyes caught a glimpse of the notebook Ryan brought with him almost everywhere he went. It usually contained several doodles and random sketches of bizarre shapes or raindrops turning into fish, but the page staring up at Michael had only words. In the top corner were the initials MP and the phrase: How do I tell him? Beneath that there were several stanzas of what appeared to be a poem or song of some sort. Michael knew it was an invasion of Ryan’s privacy but he couldn’t help himself.
This is a crazy world
These can be lonely times
It's hard to know who's on your side
Most of the time
Who can you really trust?
Who do you really know?
Is there anybody out there
Who can make you feel less alone?
Some times you just can't make it on your own
If you need a place where you can run
If you need a shoulder to cry on
I'll always be your friend
When you need some shelter from the rain
When you need a healer for your pain
I will be there time and time again
When you need someone to love you
Here I am
If you have broken dreams
Just lay them all on me
I'll be the one who understands
So take my hand
If you reach emptiness
You know I'll do my best
To fill you up with all the love
That I can show someone
I promise you you'll never walk alone
Well if you need a place where you can run
If you need a shoulder to cry on
I'll always be your friend
When you need some shelter from the rain
When you need a healer for your pain
I will be there time and time again
When you need someone to love you
Here I am
Everybody needs somebody who
Keep a heart and soul in two
Well if you need a place where you can run
If you need a shoulder to cry on
I'll always be your friend
When you need some shelter from the rain
When you need a healer for your pain
I will be there time and time again
When you need someone to love you
Here I am, Here I am
Before Michael could even process the words in front of him, Ryan waltzed into the room, naturally wearing his board shorts at a provocatively low level without a shirt to cover his tantalizingly seductive washboard abs and rock hard -whoa, what the fuck is going on?.
“Hey man, sorry about that. My mom called and you know how she gets. I’m seriously considering never living with a woman past 45. She told me she was going shopping for a new ‘upholstered piece’ for the living room. Who the fuck says that? I’m pretty sure the word ‘couch’ would have sufficed.” Ryan cut his story short when he noticed how pale Michael looked and how his eyes kinda looked like he’d been caught committing some sort of crime and he was trying desperately to come up with an excuse for whatever it was he was doing. “You all right man?”
“Huh? Oh yeah.” Michael quickly stepped away from the notebook glaring up at him accusingly and came around the bar to stand in front of Ryan, crossing his arms over his chest in a statement of innocence. “I’m just, you know… really hungry.”
“Well, duh. You slept for like, ever. Add that to your seemingly always growling stomach and we have the makings of a disaster. Just let me go grab a shirt and we can head out. I was thinking we could go down to the pier to that restaurant you like. They have those killer crab cakes. Well, not like killer crab that could eat you… that would be weird….” Ryan continued his seemingly nonsensical monologue as he made his way back to the bedroom, returning several moments later with a form-fitting plain white t-shirt. Damn that thin cotton. Damn his beautiful... Never mind.
“You ready?” Michael couldn’t believe how shaky his voice had become. It wasn’t like he was taking Ryan to the prom. It was just lunch. And this certainly wasn’t a date. He quickly grabbed his phone from the kitchen counter and walked to the front door, avoiding eye contact and even the most basic form of conversation almost the entire way out to his now dusty Escalade parked in his building’s garage.
*
Ryan wouldn’t have thought anything of Michael’s odd behavior if it hadn’t extended past lunch. His friend was always pretty quiet during meals and if it was the first one of the day, then nobody had any hope of getting a word out of him. But now they were walking down the pier, each devouring his own three scoop waffle cone and Michael still hadn’t spoken a word of any substance. Ryan quickly reached out to wipe away the melting ice cream from Michael’s cone before it could reach his fingers, licking the cold liquid from his thumb in an unconsciously seductive manner.
Michael jumped just slightly when he felt Ryan invade his personal space and was then forced to suppress a moan to watch his friend do things with his mouth that Michael could only wish he would do to his body. Stop it. Seriously. Remember, you are not gay.
“Dude, you’ve been jumpy all fuckin’ day. I can’t come within a foot of you without you freaking out. Did I do something…?”
Michael considered the forked path that lay out before him. He could either tell his best friend that he’d read something that was probably meant for Ryan’s eyes alone and that he was actually vain enough to think it was about him. Or he could just ignore the whole situation and feign an illness of some sort to explain his odd behavior. He opted for the former.
“Are you gay?” Michael hadn’t meant to be so abrupt, but it was the only question he could come up with to broach the subject.
Ryan stopped suddenly in his tracks, the look of confusion was pretty adorable to Michael, but he couldn’t focus on that. Right now he had to get answers. He had to figure out what the hell was going on between the two of them.
“What are you talking about? Where the fuck is this coming from?” Ryan also hadn’t meant to be so abrupt, but he’d had other plans to bring up the subject. It involved candlelight, flowers, maybe even Lil’ Wayne playing in the background. It certainly did not entail a public discussion for anyone to hear. Plus it wasn’t very romantic.
Michael released a soft sigh, ducking his head down before he could summon up enough courage to tell Ryan he’d practically been snooping in his private things. “I saw that poem you wrote Ryan. I know I shouldn’t have read it. What’s even more fucked up is that I shouldn’t have automatically thought it was about me… I just wanted to know. I mean, if you are gay and if you like me-“
Ryan quickly interrupted Michael, “It was about you. Your questions last night kind of freaked me out man. You just seemed so lonely, so scared and all I could think was that I wanted to make it better for you. I wanted you to feel safe and that you could trust me with anything. You know that, right Mike?”
“You used the love word Ryan. People don’t just use the love word…”
“This is what you choose to focus on Mike? Of course I love you. You’re my best friend. You’re the only person in this world that gets me and doesn’t judge me for all the crazy shit I pull.” Ryan quietly reached out for Michael’s hand, his fingers tentatively intermingling themselves with those of his best friend. “But if you wanted more…”
This was where Michael had a real decision to make. He took the path more traveled and pulled his hand away from Ryan with a harsh cruelty that was even a bit intense for Michael himself. “What the fuck makes you think I would want more? I’m not gay Ryan. I like girls. I fuck girls.”
“Are you just trying to save face here Mike? Because we can go home and talk about this…”
“This isn’t about being in front of people, Ryan. It’s about the fact that I’m not a fucking fag like you. I thought you were more of a man than that Ryan.”
“More of a man? You can’t seriously be taking that route right now Mike.” He leaned in closely to whisper against his friend’s ear, not wanting to embarrass him in front of the small group of onlookers that seemed particularly interested in their discussion. “Were you being more of a man every time you hugged me for just a second longer than most would? Were you being more of a man every time you took any excuse to touch me, to hold my hand, to tangle your fingers in my hair? Were you being more of a man when you smiled at me… God that smile Mike, you have no fucking clue…”
“And I don’t want to have any fucking clue, man. There’s nothing there. You must have just imagined it along with all of the other crazy shit floating around in that fucked up head of yours. You really ought to consider giving up the pot man, it’s fucking with your mind.”
Ryan took a long step back, examining the type of man his friend had turned in to. He simply couldn’t believe the hatred in his eyes or the tense and defensive stance he held. As if Ryan was going to try to convert him by any means possible. “Why are you so scared Mike? Why does the thought of you and me terrify you so bad? Is it because you know that we would be so fucking perfect together? I would make you so Goddamn happy Mike. But that wouldn’t work for you, would it? You always have to be so fucking miserable, don’t you? Well fine. Here’s your chance to really see what it’s like to be lonely. I’ll find my own way back home.”
Michael clenched his jaw as tightly as he could without breaking his own teeth. He could barely muster the courage to glance up at the strangers who had been listening to their entire argument. Great. I can already see the first story of the six o’clock news “Swimming phenom Michael Phelps in heated spat with his gay lover.” He knew he should have gone after Ryan, he should have apologized for being so cruel, but his pride wouldn’t allow for it right now. Right now he needed to get the fuck out of here and find something strong enough to kill the ache of regret building in the pit of his stomach.
*
When Michael finally returned home several hours later he expected… well he didn’t really know what he expected. What he found was so utterly heartbreaking that he had to sit on one of the barstools lining the kitchen counter to keep from collapsing in disbelief. Sitting in isolation on the dark marble was the very same poem that had started the whole fiasco this afternoon. Beneath the handwritten lyrics was another stanza. Only this time it wasn’t filled with words of love.
Don’t call, don’t write.
Delete me from your life.
You’re not worth all of this bullshit.
I loved you with everything inside of me and you broke my fucking heart.