Here I Am Lochte/Phelps (R) 1/3
Title: Here I Am
Pairings: Lochte/Phelps
Rating: R for use of the F-bomb
Disclaimer: Although I may wish it was real, it's not!
Notes: Thank you so much to my dear friends Kizzy7 and Wonderjessi for all of your support and giving me the courage to post my first fan fic ever! To those reading: please be gentle!
Here I Am
~ Chapter 1 ~
How long does it take for a plane to land? How long could it possibly take him to get from his terminal to baggage claim, collect his bags, get his car from the garage and drive home? Seriously. How long can it- Ryan’s bewildered thoughts were interrupted by the quiet buzzing coming from the back pocket of his jeans. He’d been pacing the living room of Michael’s new condo for the past ten- no make that eleven minutes- since his flight had landed at BWI. All of his nervous jitters were finally quieted when he saw the blue screen of his phone telling him that his best friend was calling.
Ryan quickly flipped open his phone, trying desperately not to allow his voice to reveal his excitement. “Jeah?!”
“Jeah! So I’ve decided that I’m never leaving Baltimore again. Like, seriously. You think I could convince the IOC to bring the Olympics here in 2012 instead? Maybe if we got….” Michael paused his crazy scheme briefly when he realized that he wasn’t even getting a giggle from the other end of the line. “Hello? Ryan, you do realize that as my best friend you’re supposed to stop all of my crazy rambling before I spell my plan out and am then forced to bring it to fruition, right?”
“Huh? What…? Fruition? Mike you oughtta know better than to use your big words.” Ryan finally released his somewhat feminine, yet entirely unique giggle for his friend to hear. He’d been so caught up in hearing the younger man’s voice through the speaker of his phone that he’d completely forgotten to listen to the words he was saying. There was something about Michael’s quiet lisp that Ryan found to be quite endearing.
Michael couldn’t help but laugh at his friend’s lack of attention span and decided to simply avoid any wild plotting with Ryan tonight. It wasn’t that he didn’t love hearing what extreme and oftentimes illegal ideas Ryan could come up with, it was just that the past five weeks had been so utterly exhausting that all Michael wanted to do was to crawl into his bed and sleep for at least twelve hours if he couldn’t even stretch it out to thirteen. “So listen, I’ve just landed here in Baltimore and while I would love for you to keep me entertained while ‘the man’ keeps my bags hostage, I should probably call my mom and let her know that I’m home. I just wanted to let you know that I got here safely.”
“Oh, right. Totally, that’s cool man. Ummm can I just like…?” Why was he having such a hard time telling Michael that he was here? It shouldn’t be so hard to tell your best friend and the man that you’re in love with that you’re in his house, playing with his X-Box and letting his dog drool on your favorite pair of Diesel jeans. “Okay so here’s the thing. You have to promise that you won’t get mad when I tell you this. It was supposed to be a surprise for when you got home but I’m feeling like you might punch me in the face instead of giving me a hug…”
With a slow roll of his eyes Michael spoke into the phone with a sense of distraction as he was currently searching for his suitcase amongst the mass of similar black bags. Why do I always opt for the black one? Next time. Next time I’ll actually tie on that stupid purple ribbon my mom gave me. “As long as you didn’t T-P or egg my house I really don’t have any cause to punch you in the face, Ry.”
There was that nickname again. Michael rarely used it but if he only knew the affect it had on Ryan, he might use it more often. Clearing his thoughts with a quiet cough, Ryan found the courage to tell Michael that he wasn’t actually holding it down in the G-spot, contrary popular belief supported by previous text messages. “Well here’s the deal. I was thinking that since you finally had some down time we could hang out. And since I’m such a spur of the moment kind of guy I already booked a flight. And landed. And hung out with your mom for a night since you decided to detour to Cleveland.”
“You seriously hung out with my mom?” The only way Michael could process the fact that his best friend was actually in the same state as he was for longer than two days was to focus on the most bizarre part of his story, which for Ryan was actually pretty tame this go around.
“Dude, you don’t even want to know how awkward it was for me….”
** Ryan had been in Baltimore for a grand total of fifteen seconds before he realized that Michael wasn’t actually coming home on Sunday afternoon. He’d received a text message during his flight up from Daytona Beach.
Jeah! Chillin in C-town to watch Pitts v. Browns. Call you tomorrow -M
Great. Ryan thought to himself. Now I’m stuck here in fuckin’ Maryland with no one to hang out with. I’m never doing this whole romantic gesture thing ever again. Fuck The Notebook. Shit never turns out like it does in the movies.
Ryan stood in line to deplane and weighed out his options. He could either be incredibly lame and spend the night in a hotel, by himself or he could call up perhaps the coolest woman in her fifties he knew. He opted for the latter. After making his way out to the arrivals waiting lounge, he chucked his duffle bag into the seat beside him and dialed the familiar number to Michael’s home, well what had been his home in Baltimore anyway.
“Hello?”
Debbie Phelps’ voice always seemed so caring and soft. Not like his own mother’s which tended to be a bit rough and hoarse from barking orders at young swimmers, including himself at one point, from the pool deck.
“Hey Mrs. Phelps, I mean Debbie. It’s Ryan. I know this probably seems kind of weird given that I don’t really just call. At least not so out of the blue like this. I’m rambling aren’t I?” Ryan released a nervous chuckle, reminding himself that this was the mom that offered him a chewy bar and fruit juice box the last time he’d been up north to visit Michael after Worlds.
“Well I didn’t want to say anything, but you did lose me after the ‘It’s Ryan.’”
“Sorry about that. I just feel kinda weird calling you to ask you a favor like the one I’m gonna ask you. Ummm… so I had this grand idea of flying up to surprise Michael after he got home from doing SNL but as you probably already know he decided to go watch the Steelers-Browns game. And given the circumstances I don’t really have a place to stay, or anyone to pick me up from the airport. And I don’t really know my way around Baltimore…”
Debbie could almost hear the puppy dog expression Ryan was conjuring up on the other end of the line. Those striking baby blues and pouty lips almost worked as much magic on her as it seemed to do with her son. “Well I guess it’s a good thing that I have an extra bed and a car and that I know my way around Baltimore pretty well.”
“You have no idea how much I appreciate this DP! Thank you so much!” Ryan could barely contain his relief at knowing that at least he wouldn’t have to spend the night alone and he would probably even get a free meal out of the deal.
*
Once they arrived home at Casa de Debbie, as Ryan referred to it, Debbie led her second son, as she referred to him, up to Michael’s old room for him to get comfortable and change before bed time. Ryan took the time to explore the room that had once belonged to a teenaged, nervous, and extremely awkward Michael Phelps. A smile instantly spread across his face when he found a photo album stuffed with clippings from newspapers and pictures from various meets Michael had competed in. This was the man Ryan was in love with. This was the competitive, stubborn, antsy, and goofy kid who had turned into a god in the water. He’d certainly come a long way in the twelve years he’d been swimming and Ryan was hopeful he would get to see where the next twelve years would take them; together.
Ryan quietly slunk onto the couch beside Debbie, taking a few moments of silence to figure out which reality show the woman to his right was so engulfed in. It wasn’t until they began handing out roses that he finally realized it was reruns from the previous season’s “The Bachelor”. He never understood why women would throw themselves into a competition for “true love,” but he had to admit that the bachelor was pretty hot. Damn his sexy accent.
“You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”
The simple question shook Ryan to his core. At first he tried to play it off as though she was referring to the strikingly handsome man taking up the television screen, but when he turned to face her and laugh off any suggestion that he had a crush on the Brit, he could see that she was talking about something far more serious. Her son.
“Umm… I don’t- I- I think so.” There, he’d said it out loud to another living human being. He’d thrown his feelings out into the universe and all he could do was pray that they wouldn’t come back to bite him in the ass.
“You’re going to have to be more certain than ‘I think so.’”
“Yes. Yes, I am in love with him.” Ryan ducked his head down in an attempt to hide the blush that was slowly creeping up onto his cheeks. He let out a quiet chuckle as he slowly shook his head, forcing himself to look up into the knowing eyes of the one and only Debbie Phelps, his own eyes reflecting a sense of uneasiness. “How’d you know?”
“No friend would fly several hundred miles just to hang out, especially if they meant it to be a surprise. But it’s more than that. It’s the way you two communicate. It’s the way you seem to have this uncanny ability to calm him before a race. It’s the way you look at each other; I used to look at my husband that exact same way. Like he’s the only man in the room and you would do anything in your power to make him happy.” She let out a quiet sigh before reaching across the couch to take Ryan’s slightly trembling hand into her own, squeezing it gently in an attempt to calm his nerves.
Ryan smiled weakly at her gentle gesture, chewing on his bottom lip in thought as she repeated back to him all of the signs he’d noticed when he found himself falling in love with his training partner and best friend. “You don’t think it’s weird? I mean me and him. Together, as…. as a couple?”
“Please, I think I know my son better than anybody else in this world. He’s been gay from the moment he hit puberty. He’s just always been too scared to admit it even to himself.” Debbie allowed herself to share a quiet laugh with Ryan, releasing his hand as she flipped the channel to CNN, never being one to miss Larry King. “Don’t tell Mike I said that. He’d kill me for sure. Especially if he knew his mom picked up on his lack of interest in girls.”
“No problem DP. Your secret is safe with me.”
**
Ryan of course opted to keep this conversation to himself. He knew that making any move on Michael in a romantic, or preferably sexual, manner was going to take a lot of time and patience and probably even some sort of protective gear.
“You don’t have to worry too much though, your mom was super cool as always. She even gave me the key to your sweet pad. So I guess I’ll see you here in what, like half an hour?”
“Yeah, I’ll be there. And please… don’t break anything.”
“Jeah!”
*
When Michael arrived home and dropped his bags by the front door, Ryan did all he could to keep from running into his arms. It actually wasn’t too hard once he saw the state Michael was in.
“Hey hunny, I’m home.” Michael forced a weak smile onto his face, unable to hide just how tired and worn down he’d become over the past several weeks. Even being in New York for longer than a day did nothing to revive his travel-weary body.
Ryan silently crossed the distance between them and simply pulled Michael in for a prolonged embrace. He could feel Michael’s tense muscles relax just slightly as he dropped his head to Ryan’s shoulder. “You look fuckin’ exhausted man. I didn’t realize. If I had known…”
“No, don’t say it. Having you here… means more to me than anything anyone else could have done.” He slowly raised his head to look down at the slightly smaller man. He could see something different there, something more intense than his usual goofy and loving gaze. Then again, he was so damn tired that it could easily just be his mind playing tricks on him. Only in his dreams would Ryan have something more than “just friends” feelings. Not that Michael wanted him to have more than “just friends” feelings. “C’mon… I can hear my bed calling out my name.” He reached down to retrieve his bag once more as he removed himself from the loving embrace of his friend and trudged down the hallway to his bedroom. “And don’t say shit about it being only eight o’clock.”
Needless to say, Ryan was left utterly confused by Michael’s behavior. He’d never seen him blow hot and cold like this. If he didn’t know any better he’d think Michael was really Michelle and Michelle was on the rag. Clearly this wasn’t going to be the night of romance and courtship that Ryan had planned. Before following Michael back to his bedroom, he took an indirect route to the back patio to blow out the candles lining the railing of the balcony. Seriously. Fuck The Notebook.
When Ryan made it to the bedroom at last, he found a half naked Michael stretched out horizontally across the king sized bed, feigning sleep. He chuckled softly at the sight in front of him and quickly rid himself of his jeans and t-shirt, nudging Michael with his knee. “Dude, I know you like to run against the grain but you’re seriously going to have to turn around.”
While Michael busied himself with turning the right way around on the bed, Ryan quickly maneuvered himself behind the taller man, allowing him to settle back between his legs. It was a common position the two men found themselves during the Olympic Games, especially after a race. Ryan always found it relaxing to massage away Michael’s stresses and Michael was certainly not one to complain once his friend’s strong fingers began working their magic. Usually Ryan began on Michael’s shoulders, but this was not a massage of sore muscles but rather one to bring a deep and restful sleep. So instead Ryan’s long fingers found their way into Michael’s short and chlorine enriched hair.
Michael released a soft groan as he found himself drifting in and out of consciousness in rhythm with Ryan’s soft breathing and quiet heartbeat. His own fingers began tracing random shapes on Ryan’s exposed thighs, smirking slightly to himself at the stubble finally beginning to grow back, covering what had been baby soft skin. In this experience of calm and relaxation, Michael couldn’t stop himself from revealing what had really been plaguing him the past five weeks. “What if this is it? What if I’m no greater than what I was in Beijing? Ryan, I’m actually fucking scared of getting back into that water. What if I hate it?”
In the midst of what seemed to be the perfect moment for the two of them, Ryan was taken aback by the sudden turn of events. He wasn’t expecting such a serious conversation when they were both about to drift off to a place where the ideals of calm and serenity were calling out to them. He quickly straightened up in his position, still continuing to massage Michael’s scalp as he considered the numerous questions put before him. His voice sounded so small in the dark room as his own uncertainty echoed off of the stark white walls. “I don’t know Mike. I don’t know what it’s gonna be like when you go back to the pool. I don’t know what the next four years have in store for us. But isn’t that the whole point of living? Like… this is supposed to all be a secret to us. If we knew the answers, why the fuck would we be here? What would be the point, you know?”
It may have been the most profound thing Michael had ever heard his friend say, and it actually made sense to him. Well, almost everything Ryan said usually made sense to Michael, but it had taken him almost four years to crack the older man’s codes.
“Yeah… yeah I guess. I just… I’m just glad you’re here.” He shifted his body to snuggle into his friend, finding a comfort there that he’d never allowed himself to feel before. Even though they had been this close physically, and even though he turned to Ryan for comfort and solace more times than he could count, this was the first time he received it with an undertone of such… what Michael could only label as love.
“Me too. I’ll always be here for you man.” Ryan could barely contain himself when he felt Michael snuggle into him, searching for the physical reinforcement of his best friend’s words. Ryan allowed himself to dip down and place a soft kiss on the top of Michael’s head, but when he opened his mouth to speak he could already feel the younger man’s breath coming in soft bursts across his chest, indicating that he had finally found the sleep he’d been in desperate need of.
“Goodnight Mike…”
Pairings: Lochte/Phelps
Rating: R for use of the F-bomb
Disclaimer: Although I may wish it was real, it's not!
Notes: Thank you so much to my dear friends Kizzy7 and Wonderjessi for all of your support and giving me the courage to post my first fan fic ever! To those reading: please be gentle!
Here I Am
~ Chapter 1 ~
How long does it take for a plane to land? How long could it possibly take him to get from his terminal to baggage claim, collect his bags, get his car from the garage and drive home? Seriously. How long can it- Ryan’s bewildered thoughts were interrupted by the quiet buzzing coming from the back pocket of his jeans. He’d been pacing the living room of Michael’s new condo for the past ten- no make that eleven minutes- since his flight had landed at BWI. All of his nervous jitters were finally quieted when he saw the blue screen of his phone telling him that his best friend was calling.
Ryan quickly flipped open his phone, trying desperately not to allow his voice to reveal his excitement. “Jeah?!”
“Jeah! So I’ve decided that I’m never leaving Baltimore again. Like, seriously. You think I could convince the IOC to bring the Olympics here in 2012 instead? Maybe if we got….” Michael paused his crazy scheme briefly when he realized that he wasn’t even getting a giggle from the other end of the line. “Hello? Ryan, you do realize that as my best friend you’re supposed to stop all of my crazy rambling before I spell my plan out and am then forced to bring it to fruition, right?”
“Huh? What…? Fruition? Mike you oughtta know better than to use your big words.” Ryan finally released his somewhat feminine, yet entirely unique giggle for his friend to hear. He’d been so caught up in hearing the younger man’s voice through the speaker of his phone that he’d completely forgotten to listen to the words he was saying. There was something about Michael’s quiet lisp that Ryan found to be quite endearing.
Michael couldn’t help but laugh at his friend’s lack of attention span and decided to simply avoid any wild plotting with Ryan tonight. It wasn’t that he didn’t love hearing what extreme and oftentimes illegal ideas Ryan could come up with, it was just that the past five weeks had been so utterly exhausting that all Michael wanted to do was to crawl into his bed and sleep for at least twelve hours if he couldn’t even stretch it out to thirteen. “So listen, I’ve just landed here in Baltimore and while I would love for you to keep me entertained while ‘the man’ keeps my bags hostage, I should probably call my mom and let her know that I’m home. I just wanted to let you know that I got here safely.”
“Oh, right. Totally, that’s cool man. Ummm can I just like…?” Why was he having such a hard time telling Michael that he was here? It shouldn’t be so hard to tell your best friend and the man that you’re in love with that you’re in his house, playing with his X-Box and letting his dog drool on your favorite pair of Diesel jeans. “Okay so here’s the thing. You have to promise that you won’t get mad when I tell you this. It was supposed to be a surprise for when you got home but I’m feeling like you might punch me in the face instead of giving me a hug…”
With a slow roll of his eyes Michael spoke into the phone with a sense of distraction as he was currently searching for his suitcase amongst the mass of similar black bags. Why do I always opt for the black one? Next time. Next time I’ll actually tie on that stupid purple ribbon my mom gave me. “As long as you didn’t T-P or egg my house I really don’t have any cause to punch you in the face, Ry.”
There was that nickname again. Michael rarely used it but if he only knew the affect it had on Ryan, he might use it more often. Clearing his thoughts with a quiet cough, Ryan found the courage to tell Michael that he wasn’t actually holding it down in the G-spot, contrary popular belief supported by previous text messages. “Well here’s the deal. I was thinking that since you finally had some down time we could hang out. And since I’m such a spur of the moment kind of guy I already booked a flight. And landed. And hung out with your mom for a night since you decided to detour to Cleveland.”
“You seriously hung out with my mom?” The only way Michael could process the fact that his best friend was actually in the same state as he was for longer than two days was to focus on the most bizarre part of his story, which for Ryan was actually pretty tame this go around.
“Dude, you don’t even want to know how awkward it was for me….”
** Ryan had been in Baltimore for a grand total of fifteen seconds before he realized that Michael wasn’t actually coming home on Sunday afternoon. He’d received a text message during his flight up from Daytona Beach.
Jeah! Chillin in C-town to watch Pitts v. Browns. Call you tomorrow -M
Great. Ryan thought to himself. Now I’m stuck here in fuckin’ Maryland with no one to hang out with. I’m never doing this whole romantic gesture thing ever again. Fuck The Notebook. Shit never turns out like it does in the movies.
Ryan stood in line to deplane and weighed out his options. He could either be incredibly lame and spend the night in a hotel, by himself or he could call up perhaps the coolest woman in her fifties he knew. He opted for the latter. After making his way out to the arrivals waiting lounge, he chucked his duffle bag into the seat beside him and dialed the familiar number to Michael’s home, well what had been his home in Baltimore anyway.
“Hello?”
Debbie Phelps’ voice always seemed so caring and soft. Not like his own mother’s which tended to be a bit rough and hoarse from barking orders at young swimmers, including himself at one point, from the pool deck.
“Hey Mrs. Phelps, I mean Debbie. It’s Ryan. I know this probably seems kind of weird given that I don’t really just call. At least not so out of the blue like this. I’m rambling aren’t I?” Ryan released a nervous chuckle, reminding himself that this was the mom that offered him a chewy bar and fruit juice box the last time he’d been up north to visit Michael after Worlds.
“Well I didn’t want to say anything, but you did lose me after the ‘It’s Ryan.’”
“Sorry about that. I just feel kinda weird calling you to ask you a favor like the one I’m gonna ask you. Ummm… so I had this grand idea of flying up to surprise Michael after he got home from doing SNL but as you probably already know he decided to go watch the Steelers-Browns game. And given the circumstances I don’t really have a place to stay, or anyone to pick me up from the airport. And I don’t really know my way around Baltimore…”
Debbie could almost hear the puppy dog expression Ryan was conjuring up on the other end of the line. Those striking baby blues and pouty lips almost worked as much magic on her as it seemed to do with her son. “Well I guess it’s a good thing that I have an extra bed and a car and that I know my way around Baltimore pretty well.”
“You have no idea how much I appreciate this DP! Thank you so much!” Ryan could barely contain his relief at knowing that at least he wouldn’t have to spend the night alone and he would probably even get a free meal out of the deal.
*
Once they arrived home at Casa de Debbie, as Ryan referred to it, Debbie led her second son, as she referred to him, up to Michael’s old room for him to get comfortable and change before bed time. Ryan took the time to explore the room that had once belonged to a teenaged, nervous, and extremely awkward Michael Phelps. A smile instantly spread across his face when he found a photo album stuffed with clippings from newspapers and pictures from various meets Michael had competed in. This was the man Ryan was in love with. This was the competitive, stubborn, antsy, and goofy kid who had turned into a god in the water. He’d certainly come a long way in the twelve years he’d been swimming and Ryan was hopeful he would get to see where the next twelve years would take them; together.
Ryan quietly slunk onto the couch beside Debbie, taking a few moments of silence to figure out which reality show the woman to his right was so engulfed in. It wasn’t until they began handing out roses that he finally realized it was reruns from the previous season’s “The Bachelor”. He never understood why women would throw themselves into a competition for “true love,” but he had to admit that the bachelor was pretty hot. Damn his sexy accent.
“You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”
The simple question shook Ryan to his core. At first he tried to play it off as though she was referring to the strikingly handsome man taking up the television screen, but when he turned to face her and laugh off any suggestion that he had a crush on the Brit, he could see that she was talking about something far more serious. Her son.
“Umm… I don’t- I- I think so.” There, he’d said it out loud to another living human being. He’d thrown his feelings out into the universe and all he could do was pray that they wouldn’t come back to bite him in the ass.
“You’re going to have to be more certain than ‘I think so.’”
“Yes. Yes, I am in love with him.” Ryan ducked his head down in an attempt to hide the blush that was slowly creeping up onto his cheeks. He let out a quiet chuckle as he slowly shook his head, forcing himself to look up into the knowing eyes of the one and only Debbie Phelps, his own eyes reflecting a sense of uneasiness. “How’d you know?”
“No friend would fly several hundred miles just to hang out, especially if they meant it to be a surprise. But it’s more than that. It’s the way you two communicate. It’s the way you seem to have this uncanny ability to calm him before a race. It’s the way you look at each other; I used to look at my husband that exact same way. Like he’s the only man in the room and you would do anything in your power to make him happy.” She let out a quiet sigh before reaching across the couch to take Ryan’s slightly trembling hand into her own, squeezing it gently in an attempt to calm his nerves.
Ryan smiled weakly at her gentle gesture, chewing on his bottom lip in thought as she repeated back to him all of the signs he’d noticed when he found himself falling in love with his training partner and best friend. “You don’t think it’s weird? I mean me and him. Together, as…. as a couple?”
“Please, I think I know my son better than anybody else in this world. He’s been gay from the moment he hit puberty. He’s just always been too scared to admit it even to himself.” Debbie allowed herself to share a quiet laugh with Ryan, releasing his hand as she flipped the channel to CNN, never being one to miss Larry King. “Don’t tell Mike I said that. He’d kill me for sure. Especially if he knew his mom picked up on his lack of interest in girls.”
“No problem DP. Your secret is safe with me.”
**
Ryan of course opted to keep this conversation to himself. He knew that making any move on Michael in a romantic, or preferably sexual, manner was going to take a lot of time and patience and probably even some sort of protective gear.
“You don’t have to worry too much though, your mom was super cool as always. She even gave me the key to your sweet pad. So I guess I’ll see you here in what, like half an hour?”
“Yeah, I’ll be there. And please… don’t break anything.”
“Jeah!”
*
When Michael arrived home and dropped his bags by the front door, Ryan did all he could to keep from running into his arms. It actually wasn’t too hard once he saw the state Michael was in.
“Hey hunny, I’m home.” Michael forced a weak smile onto his face, unable to hide just how tired and worn down he’d become over the past several weeks. Even being in New York for longer than a day did nothing to revive his travel-weary body.
Ryan silently crossed the distance between them and simply pulled Michael in for a prolonged embrace. He could feel Michael’s tense muscles relax just slightly as he dropped his head to Ryan’s shoulder. “You look fuckin’ exhausted man. I didn’t realize. If I had known…”
“No, don’t say it. Having you here… means more to me than anything anyone else could have done.” He slowly raised his head to look down at the slightly smaller man. He could see something different there, something more intense than his usual goofy and loving gaze. Then again, he was so damn tired that it could easily just be his mind playing tricks on him. Only in his dreams would Ryan have something more than “just friends” feelings. Not that Michael wanted him to have more than “just friends” feelings. “C’mon… I can hear my bed calling out my name.” He reached down to retrieve his bag once more as he removed himself from the loving embrace of his friend and trudged down the hallway to his bedroom. “And don’t say shit about it being only eight o’clock.”
Needless to say, Ryan was left utterly confused by Michael’s behavior. He’d never seen him blow hot and cold like this. If he didn’t know any better he’d think Michael was really Michelle and Michelle was on the rag. Clearly this wasn’t going to be the night of romance and courtship that Ryan had planned. Before following Michael back to his bedroom, he took an indirect route to the back patio to blow out the candles lining the railing of the balcony. Seriously. Fuck The Notebook.
When Ryan made it to the bedroom at last, he found a half naked Michael stretched out horizontally across the king sized bed, feigning sleep. He chuckled softly at the sight in front of him and quickly rid himself of his jeans and t-shirt, nudging Michael with his knee. “Dude, I know you like to run against the grain but you’re seriously going to have to turn around.”
While Michael busied himself with turning the right way around on the bed, Ryan quickly maneuvered himself behind the taller man, allowing him to settle back between his legs. It was a common position the two men found themselves during the Olympic Games, especially after a race. Ryan always found it relaxing to massage away Michael’s stresses and Michael was certainly not one to complain once his friend’s strong fingers began working their magic. Usually Ryan began on Michael’s shoulders, but this was not a massage of sore muscles but rather one to bring a deep and restful sleep. So instead Ryan’s long fingers found their way into Michael’s short and chlorine enriched hair.
Michael released a soft groan as he found himself drifting in and out of consciousness in rhythm with Ryan’s soft breathing and quiet heartbeat. His own fingers began tracing random shapes on Ryan’s exposed thighs, smirking slightly to himself at the stubble finally beginning to grow back, covering what had been baby soft skin. In this experience of calm and relaxation, Michael couldn’t stop himself from revealing what had really been plaguing him the past five weeks. “What if this is it? What if I’m no greater than what I was in Beijing? Ryan, I’m actually fucking scared of getting back into that water. What if I hate it?”
In the midst of what seemed to be the perfect moment for the two of them, Ryan was taken aback by the sudden turn of events. He wasn’t expecting such a serious conversation when they were both about to drift off to a place where the ideals of calm and serenity were calling out to them. He quickly straightened up in his position, still continuing to massage Michael’s scalp as he considered the numerous questions put before him. His voice sounded so small in the dark room as his own uncertainty echoed off of the stark white walls. “I don’t know Mike. I don’t know what it’s gonna be like when you go back to the pool. I don’t know what the next four years have in store for us. But isn’t that the whole point of living? Like… this is supposed to all be a secret to us. If we knew the answers, why the fuck would we be here? What would be the point, you know?”
It may have been the most profound thing Michael had ever heard his friend say, and it actually made sense to him. Well, almost everything Ryan said usually made sense to Michael, but it had taken him almost four years to crack the older man’s codes.
“Yeah… yeah I guess. I just… I’m just glad you’re here.” He shifted his body to snuggle into his friend, finding a comfort there that he’d never allowed himself to feel before. Even though they had been this close physically, and even though he turned to Ryan for comfort and solace more times than he could count, this was the first time he received it with an undertone of such… what Michael could only label as love.
“Me too. I’ll always be here for you man.” Ryan could barely contain himself when he felt Michael snuggle into him, searching for the physical reinforcement of his best friend’s words. Ryan allowed himself to dip down and place a soft kiss on the top of Michael’s head, but when he opened his mouth to speak he could already feel the younger man’s breath coming in soft bursts across his chest, indicating that he had finally found the sleep he’d been in desperate need of.
“Goodnight Mike…”