Fic-Post: It's not you, it's him (Swimming RPS)
Title: It's not you, it's him
Pairing: Ryan Lochte/Michael Phelps
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3,590
Summary: Michael thinks that things don't happen for a reason. Only maybe they do.
Disclaimer: nope
Author's Note: There's three seperate stories in this, but I was stuck on two of them, and then ~the break-up happened, and I turned three stories into one.
Michael doesn’t believe in fate. He never has. Things don’t happen for reasons, they happen because you put in hard work to make them happen. But lately he’s been forced to reconsider his theory.
First, Cullen had shown up in Baltimore. Out of the blue. Just because. They went out for lunch and Cullen had hung out at his place as the Christmas tree came in. He said it had been for the crane, but with all the not-so-subtle hints he kept dropping about Ryan and going to Istanbul, Michael didn’t quite believe him.
He had thought about going to Istanbul. Just to see how it’d be. He had the plane tickets and he’d already made the “So if I decided to go, could you get me in?” phonecalls.
In the end, he didn’t go. It was too close to Christmas and he still hadn’t bought half of the presents he had wanted to buy and what if he couldn’t make it back in time because of the weather? Besides, he didn’t know how to explain to Megan that he hadn’t included her in his travel-plans.
His mom hadn’t been too impressed. “Why would you throw your money out of the window like this?” she had asked, “Just go and spend some time with Ryan and Allison and the rest of the team.” And if Michael had been unsure before, he was definitely totally against it after that.
He would have been fine with seeing Allison. He missed her. He would have been fine with seeing just about anyone. But if he was being honest with himself, the real reason why he didn’t go was Ryan.
To say that he and Ryan were going through a bit of a rocky phase was an understatement. Because to go through a rocky phase, you’d have to at least somehow speak to each other. And Ryan and Michael hadn’t spoken to each other for weeks.
Michael doesn’t even know how it happened. Ryan had acted weird when Michael mentioned Megan’s name for the very first time at the beginning of the year. But then it got better quickly and during Trials and by the time they were in France and London, they were back to whatever they were that made everyone smile fondly at them and ask them when the wedding was going to be. But then Megan had shown up in London (sort of uninvited) and Ryan had closed off before Michael even realised he’d done it.
And then they weren’t speaking anymore. Ryan celebrated his birthday about ten times, and Michael wasn’t invited to any of the parties. He found out later that he wasn’t just uninvited, he was pretty much unwanted. “Don’t let him in even when he’s begging on his knees!” kind of unwanted. And even though Ryan had a standing invitation to Michael’s retirement party, he hadn’t shown up, hadn’t called, hadn’t sent messages.
Michael watched as Ryan brought some little blonde along to the Golden Goggles, but then still hung out all night with Cullen and everyone who wasn’t him. Thanksgiving came and went with Ryan being on the other side of the Atlantic racing cars. And Michael had only known that because Ike had called, because Ike always calls on Thanksgiving.
Christmas rolls around and the second Michael gets into his mother’s living room to put the presents under the tree, he sees the present Ryan sent over. Everything about the oddly-shaped thing in bright green wrapping paper with the candy canes on it screams Ryan’s name at him. His stomach is suddenly in knots and his hands are shaking as he’s kneeling down and reaches for the huge yellow bow around it.
But then Debbie steps into the room and slaps his hand away, “Don’t you dare open any presents early, Michael Fred Phelps!”
Michael looks up at his mother. “When did this get here?”
“A few days ago. I guess he thought you would throw it out right away.” And she doesn’t say anything else, but Michael still feels like he’s being scolded for being in a fight with Ryan.
“Mom, I need to open this. Now.” he whines. “What if it’s something bad? Would you want me to mope around when we open presents?”
“Why would it be something bad?”
Michael shrugs.
“Ryan would not go through the trouble of sending a present for you to me if it was something bad.”
“Mom, I just … I need to open this now, sorry.”
His tone is sharp and demanding and he would never use it in front of his mother, but somehow it just happens and he feels bad about it pretty much immediately. But Debbie seems to understand, because she reaches underneath the tree and pulls out Ryan’s present and wordlessly hands it to Michael before kissing the top of his head. She leaves the room and closes the door behind her.
Michael keeps sitting on the floor and just stares at the wrapped present. There’s duct tape at random places, there’s no shape to it (it sorta looks like a bloated football, Michael thinks) and the bow is wonky at best. To anyone else it would like either it was wrapped by a child or by someone who didn’t try very hard. All that Michael sees is effort and a lot of thought and maybe even love, but he stops himself from thinking about that too much.
He carefully pulls the bow open and then, with a patience he doesn’t have for many things, he fiddles open the tape that holds the present together. The paper comes loose and Michael manages to shake out a green package that is enveloped in bubblewrap. He untangles it and the closer he gets to the actual present, he notices that it’s not a green box, it’s green fabric.
The first smile appears on his face when all the wrapping paper is gone and the t-shirt sort of unfolds itself in his lap, now it’s not confined by the bubblewrap anymore.
*
“Nice t-shirt.”
Ryan looks down himself, then grins.
“I know, right?”
“It’s mine, idiot.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“Yes, it is.”
“Dude, I bought it in Orlando when I took Dev and Brandon to Disney. Are you trying to tell me I don’t know my own t-shirts?”
“I’m trying to tell you that this” Michael points at Ryan’s chest, “is a t-shirt I bought in a comic book store in New York and back at home, I have the Batman t-shirt that I bought in the same shop to prove it.”
“You are such a nerd, Michael Phelps.”
“Says the guy who stole my TMNT t-shirt.”
“TMNT?”
“Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.”
Ryan laughs. “You’re even speaking in nerd-code. You’re a lost cause, bro.”
“You still stole my t-shirt. Stop trying to get out of that.”
Ryan just keeps grinning, but it turns into something of a devilish smirk before he flops down onto the bed Michael is sitting on and crawls over until he’s straddling Michael’s thighs.
“So if you’re so sure this shirt is yours” he grinds his hips down and brings his face closer to Michael’s, “I guess you just gotta take it away from me.” He leans over and takes Michael’s bottom lip between his teeth and bites lightly and Michael moans before leaning into it and crushing their lips together.
The t-shirt ends up forgotten on the floor less than a minute later.
*
Michael folds the t-shirt back up and places it underneath the tree, next to the presents with his name on them. He picks up the green box still nestled in his lap and carefully shakes it. He hears nothing so he carefully lifts the lid. And then he laughs. For the first time in what feels like months, he honestly laughs.
He inspects the contents of the box closer and then laughs even harder. And before he can even contemplate what he’s doing he’s getting his phone out and almost blindly hits the right keys.
“Yo!” comes the answer after just a few rings.
“So you’re finally admitting that you stole my t-shirt.”
“No way, bro. I still have mine. Bought you that one in Boston.” There’s a pause. “Did you see the rest?”
Michael nods eagerly, then realises that it can’t be seen through the phone. “Yeah. Dude, I love it.”
“You know why I picked them, right?”
“What do you think of me, of course I know.”
*
“So which of them are you?”
Ryan and Michael are spread out on the bed, in a mess of sweat, sheets and naked skin. Ryan’s head rests on Michael’s stomach and he looks up at the ceiling, but flips around onto his stomach after he asks Michael the question.
Michael runs his hand through Ryan’s curls. “Which of whom am I?”
“Ninja Turtles, man. Don’t try telling me you didn’t think of yourself as one of them when you were little. Everyone did.”
Michael thinks for a moment. “Donatello, I guess. I mean, he had the purple mask.”
Ryan snorts. “Dude, you’re so not Donatello. Like, he build stuff and invented shit. He’s boring. And like, his weapon was a stick, how lame is that?”
“So who am I then?”
Ryan thinks for a moment. “I mean, you could be Leonardo I guess. Cause, you know, you train hard and all. But you with a sword?” He shakes his head. “Can’t see that. Also, it’s such a stupid name. Like Leonardo DiCaprio. Who’d wanna be called Leonardo?”
“Leonardo DiCaprio keeps scoring with models, so I guess he’s doing something right.”
“That’s not the name, trust me. It’s the fame factor. Dude’s been in ‘Titanic’, that’s why he gets to bang models. You and I could bang models too.”
Michael gets silent for a moment. He hates the thought of Ryan hooking up with anyone, nevermind a model. “So who am I then if not Leonardo?”
“Raphael. Duh!”
“Why him?”
“Well, for one, he has those Sai Swords. Like, you get two weapons, not just one. And dude, I heard you fight with Bob. He would probably agree with you being Raph.”
“Bob doesn’t even know what Ninja Turtles are.” Michael pauses. “So you’re Michaelangelo?“
“Hell yeah, man. Dude is totally chill. He has fucking nunchucks. And I mean, his nickname is Mike, so …” He grins. “Hey, why are they called nunchucks? I don’t think you’re meant to chuck em at nuns.”
Michael laughs and brings his hand to the back of Ryan’s neck, pulling him close for another kiss, smiling against Ryan’s lips and feeling him smile back.
*
“How’s Christmas so far?” Ryan’s voice pulls Michael out of his memories.
“Good.” He smiles into the phone. “Just got to Mom’s. How’s yours?”
“Dev and I are on baby-duty.” Ryan replies and Michael can tell by the sound of his voice that he seriously loves it. “Just showing Trustin the tree, actually.” There’s a bit of shuffling before he says in a gentle voice, “Hey Trus, wanna say hi to my friend Mike?” There’s a bit of gurgling coming through the phone and a few baby-noises before Ryan speaks up again. “That was Trustin saying ‘Merry Christmas’, in case you were wondering.”
There’s a pause in the conversation and Michael thinks that he should say something. They haven’t spoken for months and it feels like those months hadn’t happened and that was honestly better than anything he could have hoped for. But he still felt like something needed to be said.
But Ryan beats him to it. “Sorry for being an asshole.” he says, dead serious all of a sudden.
“You weren’t.” Michael protests.
“No dude, I was. I was like … I was jealous. And I took it out on you. You didn’t do anything wrong. You were honest with me about Megan and I just … I don’t know, I guess I didn’t want to believe it or something.”
“Yeah, but … I was an asshole for … y’know, in London. I shouldn’t have made a move there.”
“That was a dick-move, yeah. Literally.” There’s a small laugh, “But like, I shouldn’t have moved along with it. I knew you weren’t free so …”
“Let’s just say we both made some mistakes, yeah?”
“Yeah, okay.” Another pause. “She there?”
“Can we not talk about her? Like, I don’t know, it’s weird.”
Ryan sighs relieved. “It kinda is, isn’t it? So, what are you gonna do for New Year’s?”
“Cabo. Squeezing in some golf.”
“Nice going, dude!”
“You?”
“Vegas with Ed. Conor was supposed to come, but he’s on some roadtrip to Orlando with Elizabeth. Dude, in the new year, we gotta do something. Like, you come down here or we’re going somewhere, whatever. We need to hang out again.”
“Yeah man, totally!” And before he knows, Michael is mentally going through his calendar, looking for the first weekend he can use to get to Florida.
They’re interrupted when suddenly, the baby starts making some small wailing noises before breaking out into flown-blown crying.
“What’s this now, Trus?” Ryan coos at the baby while still being on the phone and it only seems to result in more crying. There’s another round of shuffling and Ryan tries to calm the baby down with some low humming. Nothing seems to help, instead the notes Trustin hit gets higher and higher. “Sorry Mike, I guess I gotta go. Little man here needs to be fed I think.”
“Sure thing, go take care of that. I know how serious you Lochte’s get about food.”
Ryan laughs. “Yeah, he’s definitely one of us. Eats like a monster already.”
“Thanks for the presents.”
“No big deal. Thanks for calling. I’ll hit you up in the new year, alright?”
“Yeah, sure. Bye Ryan.”
“Bye Mike.”
Michael spends the rest of Christmas with a huge smile on his face that only gets bigger whenever his eyes glance to the small pile of his presents under the tree.
He spends the next day at the aquarium with Megan and her parents and it occurs to him that something’s not quite the way it should be when he enjoys playing catch with a dolphin more than hearing childhood-stories of his girlfriend. And something’s definitely not right about him erupting in manic laughter when he spots a gigantic stuffed animal turtle and insists to take a photo with it to post it online, but only reluctantly stands next to Megan when her mother wants to take a photo of them.
Nothing feels right for the rest of day and on the morning after, he sits down with Megan over breakfast and they have ‘the talk’. Turns out that they apparently want different things out of the relationship (Michael’s problem being that this is literally what he wants - out of the relationship) and on the next day, Michael gets on the flight to Cabo by himself while Megan and her parents take an extra suitcase with Megan’s things over to LA.
Being in Mexico is quite awesome. He plays golf and he soaks up the sun and gets to beat George Clooney at Beerpong. And while that is seriously the coolest thing that he’s done recently or maybe ever, it feels odd that he doesn’t get to share it with anyone. Sure, he gets to gloat with Stacey, but at the end of the night, George Clooney will always be more famous than Michael Phelps, so Michael still ends up in bed alone.
It’s breakfast on New Year’s Eve and Michael is up before anyone else (how long is it going to take for his inner clock to switch from ‘swimmer’ to ‘normal person’, for real now?) and he has breakfast on his own and even when everyone else wakes up, he still feels on his own, because as he looks around the table, he realises there are nothing but couples surrounding him. He starts fumbling around on his phone and before he really knows what he’s doing, he’s rushing back into his suite because apparently, he just booked a first class flight to Vegas on a whim.
He doesn’t even get a chance to let Ryan know that he’s coming around until he touches down in Vegas and has no idea where he’s supposed to go to when he gets into the cab.
“It’s not the new year yet, dude. What are you, desperate? Missed me that much?” Ryan jokes when he picks up the phone.
“Uhm … where are you?”
“Vegas. I told you I was gonna -“
“No, where in Vegas are you?”
“Are you here?”
“Well …”
“Holy shit, you are here!” He pauses, “Wait, weren’t you supposed to -“
“Can I tell you that when I’m not sitting in a cab without knowing where I have to get to?”
So Ryan tells him the hotel and his room number and to “Just come up when you get here.” and about 40 minutes later, Michael is knocking on Ryan’s door and his heart is beating so fast that he can almost feel it on his tongue. But he doesn’t have time to lose his mind over it, because all of a sudden the door flies open and Ryan is in front of him all warm smile and bright eyes. He looks and smells like he’s fresh out of the shower.
“Dude!” Ryan exclaims and Michael doesn’t even get into the room before he has an armful of Ryan Lochte.
“Hi Ryan.” he says around a laugh and slaps Ryan on the back.
Michael gets ushered into the room and Ryan flops down onto his bed, indicating to the bed next to his that appears to be un-used. “Ed got his own room.” he offers unasked. “So spill man, what brings you here? I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s awesome, but I didn’t think you’d come to hang out so soon.” He pauses. “Is Megan here?”
Michael shakes his head and his lips press together in a tight line.
“You okay?”
“We broke up.” And he realises that this is the first time he’s said those words out loud. He can tell by the look on Ryan’s face that he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to say. “It’s okay.” he reassures him.
“Between Christmas and New Year’s? Rough, dude! Did she cheat?”
“No. But like … I sorta did. Maybe?”
Ryan looks at him surprised.
“Not like cheated cheated. But … like, when we spoke on Christmas, that was sorta … I don’t know. It made me think.”
“About?”
Michael thinks. “How many times did you get the ‘I told you so’ thing?”
Ryan chuckles. “A lot. Dev’s like, he’s a pro at it.”
“Yeah, mom was like, when I told her about Megan for the first time, she wanted to say something, but she held back. But you know what I noticed?”
“What?”
“No one ever wanted to talk me out of dating you.”
Ryan smiles softly. “Yeah, if anything they just tried to talk me into it. Not like anyone had to.”
Michael nods. “And like, that’s gotta mean something, right? And when I got your presents, I just … you know me, dude. And we haven’t spoken for months and when we talked on the phone it was like, these months hadn’t happened, you know. And when you look at how we’ve treated each other after the summer, that’s like …”
“We can’t be without each other.” Ryan finishes.
Michael moves to sit next to Ryan on his bed, so close that their shoulders, arms and thighs touch. They look at each other closely, brown eyes meeting blue.
“We shouldn’t be without each other.” Michael corrects and bumps his shoulder against Ryan, smiling.
Michael can’t see Ryan smile back, but he feels the curl of his lips against his own.
They both sleep through midnight, curled up against one another. Michael is the first one to wake up in the morning and it takes a few pinches to Ryan’s arm and a few more pokes to the shoulder to wake him up.
“Whu?”
“You missed the party, dude.”
“I had a pretty good party right here.” He grins without even opening his eyes and tightens his hold on Michael’s naked hips. “Besides, we have like a lifetime of New Year’s-parties we can go to.”
Michael tries to wriggle out of Ryan’s grip.
“Nuh-uh.” And Ryan sounds like he’s just about to go back to sleep.
“Hey, no going back to sleep, we have someplace to be, remember?”
That seems to do the trick as Ryan promptly opens his eyes. He smiles up at Michael and leans up to kiss him softly.
“You really sure?” he asks when he pulls away.
“Really sure.”
A few hours later, when Michael is standing in front of a tiny wedding chapel, he can’t quite believe what he’s about to do, but the huge smile on Ryan’s face immediately erases any tiny shadow of doubt that may appear.
“Dude, you know what’s the best thing?” Ryan asks, squeezing his hand.
“What?”
“Our moms are not even going to kill us for doing this without them being here. … At least not at first. But then we can tell them that they told us so.”
And as they’re walking through the door of the chapel, still hand in hand, Michael thinks he may seriously has to reconsider whether or not he believes in fate, seeing as his fate goes by the name of Ryan Lochte.
Pairing: Ryan Lochte/Michael Phelps
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3,590
Summary: Michael thinks that things don't happen for a reason. Only maybe they do.
Disclaimer: nope
Author's Note: There's three seperate stories in this, but I was stuck on two of them, and then ~the break-up happened, and I turned three stories into one.
Michael doesn’t believe in fate. He never has. Things don’t happen for reasons, they happen because you put in hard work to make them happen. But lately he’s been forced to reconsider his theory.
First, Cullen had shown up in Baltimore. Out of the blue. Just because. They went out for lunch and Cullen had hung out at his place as the Christmas tree came in. He said it had been for the crane, but with all the not-so-subtle hints he kept dropping about Ryan and going to Istanbul, Michael didn’t quite believe him.
He had thought about going to Istanbul. Just to see how it’d be. He had the plane tickets and he’d already made the “So if I decided to go, could you get me in?” phonecalls.
In the end, he didn’t go. It was too close to Christmas and he still hadn’t bought half of the presents he had wanted to buy and what if he couldn’t make it back in time because of the weather? Besides, he didn’t know how to explain to Megan that he hadn’t included her in his travel-plans.
His mom hadn’t been too impressed. “Why would you throw your money out of the window like this?” she had asked, “Just go and spend some time with Ryan and Allison and the rest of the team.” And if Michael had been unsure before, he was definitely totally against it after that.
He would have been fine with seeing Allison. He missed her. He would have been fine with seeing just about anyone. But if he was being honest with himself, the real reason why he didn’t go was Ryan.
To say that he and Ryan were going through a bit of a rocky phase was an understatement. Because to go through a rocky phase, you’d have to at least somehow speak to each other. And Ryan and Michael hadn’t spoken to each other for weeks.
Michael doesn’t even know how it happened. Ryan had acted weird when Michael mentioned Megan’s name for the very first time at the beginning of the year. But then it got better quickly and during Trials and by the time they were in France and London, they were back to whatever they were that made everyone smile fondly at them and ask them when the wedding was going to be. But then Megan had shown up in London (sort of uninvited) and Ryan had closed off before Michael even realised he’d done it.
And then they weren’t speaking anymore. Ryan celebrated his birthday about ten times, and Michael wasn’t invited to any of the parties. He found out later that he wasn’t just uninvited, he was pretty much unwanted. “Don’t let him in even when he’s begging on his knees!” kind of unwanted. And even though Ryan had a standing invitation to Michael’s retirement party, he hadn’t shown up, hadn’t called, hadn’t sent messages.
Michael watched as Ryan brought some little blonde along to the Golden Goggles, but then still hung out all night with Cullen and everyone who wasn’t him. Thanksgiving came and went with Ryan being on the other side of the Atlantic racing cars. And Michael had only known that because Ike had called, because Ike always calls on Thanksgiving.
Christmas rolls around and the second Michael gets into his mother’s living room to put the presents under the tree, he sees the present Ryan sent over. Everything about the oddly-shaped thing in bright green wrapping paper with the candy canes on it screams Ryan’s name at him. His stomach is suddenly in knots and his hands are shaking as he’s kneeling down and reaches for the huge yellow bow around it.
But then Debbie steps into the room and slaps his hand away, “Don’t you dare open any presents early, Michael Fred Phelps!”
Michael looks up at his mother. “When did this get here?”
“A few days ago. I guess he thought you would throw it out right away.” And she doesn’t say anything else, but Michael still feels like he’s being scolded for being in a fight with Ryan.
“Mom, I need to open this. Now.” he whines. “What if it’s something bad? Would you want me to mope around when we open presents?”
“Why would it be something bad?”
Michael shrugs.
“Ryan would not go through the trouble of sending a present for you to me if it was something bad.”
“Mom, I just … I need to open this now, sorry.”
His tone is sharp and demanding and he would never use it in front of his mother, but somehow it just happens and he feels bad about it pretty much immediately. But Debbie seems to understand, because she reaches underneath the tree and pulls out Ryan’s present and wordlessly hands it to Michael before kissing the top of his head. She leaves the room and closes the door behind her.
Michael keeps sitting on the floor and just stares at the wrapped present. There’s duct tape at random places, there’s no shape to it (it sorta looks like a bloated football, Michael thinks) and the bow is wonky at best. To anyone else it would like either it was wrapped by a child or by someone who didn’t try very hard. All that Michael sees is effort and a lot of thought and maybe even love, but he stops himself from thinking about that too much.
He carefully pulls the bow open and then, with a patience he doesn’t have for many things, he fiddles open the tape that holds the present together. The paper comes loose and Michael manages to shake out a green package that is enveloped in bubblewrap. He untangles it and the closer he gets to the actual present, he notices that it’s not a green box, it’s green fabric.
The first smile appears on his face when all the wrapping paper is gone and the t-shirt sort of unfolds itself in his lap, now it’s not confined by the bubblewrap anymore.
*
“Nice t-shirt.”
Ryan looks down himself, then grins.
“I know, right?”
“It’s mine, idiot.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“Yes, it is.”
“Dude, I bought it in Orlando when I took Dev and Brandon to Disney. Are you trying to tell me I don’t know my own t-shirts?”
“I’m trying to tell you that this” Michael points at Ryan’s chest, “is a t-shirt I bought in a comic book store in New York and back at home, I have the Batman t-shirt that I bought in the same shop to prove it.”
“You are such a nerd, Michael Phelps.”
“Says the guy who stole my TMNT t-shirt.”
“TMNT?”
“Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.”
Ryan laughs. “You’re even speaking in nerd-code. You’re a lost cause, bro.”
“You still stole my t-shirt. Stop trying to get out of that.”
Ryan just keeps grinning, but it turns into something of a devilish smirk before he flops down onto the bed Michael is sitting on and crawls over until he’s straddling Michael’s thighs.
“So if you’re so sure this shirt is yours” he grinds his hips down and brings his face closer to Michael’s, “I guess you just gotta take it away from me.” He leans over and takes Michael’s bottom lip between his teeth and bites lightly and Michael moans before leaning into it and crushing their lips together.
The t-shirt ends up forgotten on the floor less than a minute later.
*
Michael folds the t-shirt back up and places it underneath the tree, next to the presents with his name on them. He picks up the green box still nestled in his lap and carefully shakes it. He hears nothing so he carefully lifts the lid. And then he laughs. For the first time in what feels like months, he honestly laughs.
He inspects the contents of the box closer and then laughs even harder. And before he can even contemplate what he’s doing he’s getting his phone out and almost blindly hits the right keys.
“Yo!” comes the answer after just a few rings.
“So you’re finally admitting that you stole my t-shirt.”
“No way, bro. I still have mine. Bought you that one in Boston.” There’s a pause. “Did you see the rest?”
Michael nods eagerly, then realises that it can’t be seen through the phone. “Yeah. Dude, I love it.”
“You know why I picked them, right?”
“What do you think of me, of course I know.”
*
“So which of them are you?”
Ryan and Michael are spread out on the bed, in a mess of sweat, sheets and naked skin. Ryan’s head rests on Michael’s stomach and he looks up at the ceiling, but flips around onto his stomach after he asks Michael the question.
Michael runs his hand through Ryan’s curls. “Which of whom am I?”
“Ninja Turtles, man. Don’t try telling me you didn’t think of yourself as one of them when you were little. Everyone did.”
Michael thinks for a moment. “Donatello, I guess. I mean, he had the purple mask.”
Ryan snorts. “Dude, you’re so not Donatello. Like, he build stuff and invented shit. He’s boring. And like, his weapon was a stick, how lame is that?”
“So who am I then?”
Ryan thinks for a moment. “I mean, you could be Leonardo I guess. Cause, you know, you train hard and all. But you with a sword?” He shakes his head. “Can’t see that. Also, it’s such a stupid name. Like Leonardo DiCaprio. Who’d wanna be called Leonardo?”
“Leonardo DiCaprio keeps scoring with models, so I guess he’s doing something right.”
“That’s not the name, trust me. It’s the fame factor. Dude’s been in ‘Titanic’, that’s why he gets to bang models. You and I could bang models too.”
Michael gets silent for a moment. He hates the thought of Ryan hooking up with anyone, nevermind a model. “So who am I then if not Leonardo?”
“Raphael. Duh!”
“Why him?”
“Well, for one, he has those Sai Swords. Like, you get two weapons, not just one. And dude, I heard you fight with Bob. He would probably agree with you being Raph.”
“Bob doesn’t even know what Ninja Turtles are.” Michael pauses. “So you’re Michaelangelo?“
“Hell yeah, man. Dude is totally chill. He has fucking nunchucks. And I mean, his nickname is Mike, so …” He grins. “Hey, why are they called nunchucks? I don’t think you’re meant to chuck em at nuns.”
Michael laughs and brings his hand to the back of Ryan’s neck, pulling him close for another kiss, smiling against Ryan’s lips and feeling him smile back.
*
“How’s Christmas so far?” Ryan’s voice pulls Michael out of his memories.
“Good.” He smiles into the phone. “Just got to Mom’s. How’s yours?”
“Dev and I are on baby-duty.” Ryan replies and Michael can tell by the sound of his voice that he seriously loves it. “Just showing Trustin the tree, actually.” There’s a bit of shuffling before he says in a gentle voice, “Hey Trus, wanna say hi to my friend Mike?” There’s a bit of gurgling coming through the phone and a few baby-noises before Ryan speaks up again. “That was Trustin saying ‘Merry Christmas’, in case you were wondering.”
There’s a pause in the conversation and Michael thinks that he should say something. They haven’t spoken for months and it feels like those months hadn’t happened and that was honestly better than anything he could have hoped for. But he still felt like something needed to be said.
But Ryan beats him to it. “Sorry for being an asshole.” he says, dead serious all of a sudden.
“You weren’t.” Michael protests.
“No dude, I was. I was like … I was jealous. And I took it out on you. You didn’t do anything wrong. You were honest with me about Megan and I just … I don’t know, I guess I didn’t want to believe it or something.”
“Yeah, but … I was an asshole for … y’know, in London. I shouldn’t have made a move there.”
“That was a dick-move, yeah. Literally.” There’s a small laugh, “But like, I shouldn’t have moved along with it. I knew you weren’t free so …”
“Let’s just say we both made some mistakes, yeah?”
“Yeah, okay.” Another pause. “She there?”
“Can we not talk about her? Like, I don’t know, it’s weird.”
Ryan sighs relieved. “It kinda is, isn’t it? So, what are you gonna do for New Year’s?”
“Cabo. Squeezing in some golf.”
“Nice going, dude!”
“You?”
“Vegas with Ed. Conor was supposed to come, but he’s on some roadtrip to Orlando with Elizabeth. Dude, in the new year, we gotta do something. Like, you come down here or we’re going somewhere, whatever. We need to hang out again.”
“Yeah man, totally!” And before he knows, Michael is mentally going through his calendar, looking for the first weekend he can use to get to Florida.
They’re interrupted when suddenly, the baby starts making some small wailing noises before breaking out into flown-blown crying.
“What’s this now, Trus?” Ryan coos at the baby while still being on the phone and it only seems to result in more crying. There’s another round of shuffling and Ryan tries to calm the baby down with some low humming. Nothing seems to help, instead the notes Trustin hit gets higher and higher. “Sorry Mike, I guess I gotta go. Little man here needs to be fed I think.”
“Sure thing, go take care of that. I know how serious you Lochte’s get about food.”
Ryan laughs. “Yeah, he’s definitely one of us. Eats like a monster already.”
“Thanks for the presents.”
“No big deal. Thanks for calling. I’ll hit you up in the new year, alright?”
“Yeah, sure. Bye Ryan.”
“Bye Mike.”
Michael spends the rest of Christmas with a huge smile on his face that only gets bigger whenever his eyes glance to the small pile of his presents under the tree.
He spends the next day at the aquarium with Megan and her parents and it occurs to him that something’s not quite the way it should be when he enjoys playing catch with a dolphin more than hearing childhood-stories of his girlfriend. And something’s definitely not right about him erupting in manic laughter when he spots a gigantic stuffed animal turtle and insists to take a photo with it to post it online, but only reluctantly stands next to Megan when her mother wants to take a photo of them.
Nothing feels right for the rest of day and on the morning after, he sits down with Megan over breakfast and they have ‘the talk’. Turns out that they apparently want different things out of the relationship (Michael’s problem being that this is literally what he wants - out of the relationship) and on the next day, Michael gets on the flight to Cabo by himself while Megan and her parents take an extra suitcase with Megan’s things over to LA.
Being in Mexico is quite awesome. He plays golf and he soaks up the sun and gets to beat George Clooney at Beerpong. And while that is seriously the coolest thing that he’s done recently or maybe ever, it feels odd that he doesn’t get to share it with anyone. Sure, he gets to gloat with Stacey, but at the end of the night, George Clooney will always be more famous than Michael Phelps, so Michael still ends up in bed alone.
It’s breakfast on New Year’s Eve and Michael is up before anyone else (how long is it going to take for his inner clock to switch from ‘swimmer’ to ‘normal person’, for real now?) and he has breakfast on his own and even when everyone else wakes up, he still feels on his own, because as he looks around the table, he realises there are nothing but couples surrounding him. He starts fumbling around on his phone and before he really knows what he’s doing, he’s rushing back into his suite because apparently, he just booked a first class flight to Vegas on a whim.
He doesn’t even get a chance to let Ryan know that he’s coming around until he touches down in Vegas and has no idea where he’s supposed to go to when he gets into the cab.
“It’s not the new year yet, dude. What are you, desperate? Missed me that much?” Ryan jokes when he picks up the phone.
“Uhm … where are you?”
“Vegas. I told you I was gonna -“
“No, where in Vegas are you?”
“Are you here?”
“Well …”
“Holy shit, you are here!” He pauses, “Wait, weren’t you supposed to -“
“Can I tell you that when I’m not sitting in a cab without knowing where I have to get to?”
So Ryan tells him the hotel and his room number and to “Just come up when you get here.” and about 40 minutes later, Michael is knocking on Ryan’s door and his heart is beating so fast that he can almost feel it on his tongue. But he doesn’t have time to lose his mind over it, because all of a sudden the door flies open and Ryan is in front of him all warm smile and bright eyes. He looks and smells like he’s fresh out of the shower.
“Dude!” Ryan exclaims and Michael doesn’t even get into the room before he has an armful of Ryan Lochte.
“Hi Ryan.” he says around a laugh and slaps Ryan on the back.
Michael gets ushered into the room and Ryan flops down onto his bed, indicating to the bed next to his that appears to be un-used. “Ed got his own room.” he offers unasked. “So spill man, what brings you here? I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s awesome, but I didn’t think you’d come to hang out so soon.” He pauses. “Is Megan here?”
Michael shakes his head and his lips press together in a tight line.
“You okay?”
“We broke up.” And he realises that this is the first time he’s said those words out loud. He can tell by the look on Ryan’s face that he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to say. “It’s okay.” he reassures him.
“Between Christmas and New Year’s? Rough, dude! Did she cheat?”
“No. But like … I sorta did. Maybe?”
Ryan looks at him surprised.
“Not like cheated cheated. But … like, when we spoke on Christmas, that was sorta … I don’t know. It made me think.”
“About?”
Michael thinks. “How many times did you get the ‘I told you so’ thing?”
Ryan chuckles. “A lot. Dev’s like, he’s a pro at it.”
“Yeah, mom was like, when I told her about Megan for the first time, she wanted to say something, but she held back. But you know what I noticed?”
“What?”
“No one ever wanted to talk me out of dating you.”
Ryan smiles softly. “Yeah, if anything they just tried to talk me into it. Not like anyone had to.”
Michael nods. “And like, that’s gotta mean something, right? And when I got your presents, I just … you know me, dude. And we haven’t spoken for months and when we talked on the phone it was like, these months hadn’t happened, you know. And when you look at how we’ve treated each other after the summer, that’s like …”
“We can’t be without each other.” Ryan finishes.
Michael moves to sit next to Ryan on his bed, so close that their shoulders, arms and thighs touch. They look at each other closely, brown eyes meeting blue.
“We shouldn’t be without each other.” Michael corrects and bumps his shoulder against Ryan, smiling.
Michael can’t see Ryan smile back, but he feels the curl of his lips against his own.
They both sleep through midnight, curled up against one another. Michael is the first one to wake up in the morning and it takes a few pinches to Ryan’s arm and a few more pokes to the shoulder to wake him up.
“Whu?”
“You missed the party, dude.”
“I had a pretty good party right here.” He grins without even opening his eyes and tightens his hold on Michael’s naked hips. “Besides, we have like a lifetime of New Year’s-parties we can go to.”
Michael tries to wriggle out of Ryan’s grip.
“Nuh-uh.” And Ryan sounds like he’s just about to go back to sleep.
“Hey, no going back to sleep, we have someplace to be, remember?”
That seems to do the trick as Ryan promptly opens his eyes. He smiles up at Michael and leans up to kiss him softly.
“You really sure?” he asks when he pulls away.
“Really sure.”
A few hours later, when Michael is standing in front of a tiny wedding chapel, he can’t quite believe what he’s about to do, but the huge smile on Ryan’s face immediately erases any tiny shadow of doubt that may appear.
“Dude, you know what’s the best thing?” Ryan asks, squeezing his hand.
“What?”
“Our moms are not even going to kill us for doing this without them being here. … At least not at first. But then we can tell them that they told us so.”
And as they’re walking through the door of the chapel, still hand in hand, Michael thinks he may seriously has to reconsider whether or not he believes in fate, seeing as his fate goes by the name of Ryan Lochte.