Fic-Post: Draw me in (Swimming RPS)
Title: Draw me in
Pairing: Ryan Lochte/Michael Phelps
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 9,719
Summary: Ryan picks up a habit of drawing on Michael
Disclaimer: Doubt it
Author's Note: Thanks a lot to greatestheroine for cheering me through this. And I hope actionlady doesn't mind that I've stolen a sentence from her.
Michael doesn’t want another tattoo. Honestly, he is perfectly fine with the two he already has. He won’t admit it publicly, but having a vibrating needle getting rammed into his body, close to his junk at that, does not rank amongst the things he really liked doing in his life.
Ryan on the other hand, he loves his tattoos. He subconsciously taps his fingers against the Olympic Rings whenever he crosses his arms in front of his chest and the gator on his shoulder even has a name. Albert. Go figure. Ryan has a new tattoo idea about once a week and if it wasn’t for the difficulty of fitting a tattoo session into his practise schedule, he’d already have way more than the two tattoos he already has.
Every other time they’re on Skype with each other, Ryan is showing Michael drawings of things he maybe possibly would like to get tattooed eventually and seriously, even if Ryan just got half of them done, he’d have some weird shit scattered all over his body.
One evening, Ryan shows Michael a drawing that doesn’t really look like anything other than swirls and odd shapes around a couple of stars and says that Devon toys with the idea of getting it tattooed across his shoulder blades.
“Your mom’s gonna kill him.”
“And me too.” Ryan laughs. “It’s still up for grabs. You want it?”
“No, thanks. I’m fine with the ones I have.”
“Dude, nobody can see them. What’s the point in having them? I should drag you to a studio and then we’re getting something together when I’m coming up.”
“Yeah, speaking of. You coming next weekend, right?”
“Yep. But I might stay a few extra days, like til Wednesday or something. Still okay?”
“Dude, sure.”
Over the past few years, Ryan and Michael had built up a nearly monthly routine of visiting each other for a few days. Whenever they could get out of practise (or even when they couldn’t) or when things got to too hectic or too boring, one of them would get on a plane. They’d always pick each other up at whatever airport whoever was flying into and on the way home, they’d stop at some grocery store and bought enough food and drinks to feed a small army so they wouldn’t necessarily have to leave the house for however long they were going to be together.
Once they were together, Michael felt like he could finally relax. For some reason, it seemed like Ryan was the only person in the world who didn’t have any expectations in him. He didn’t care if Michael was swimming or not and he never passed judgement on how Michael chose to spend his time and he never gave Michael funny looks when he said he’d thrown away a large chunk of money at the Poker table.
Ryan on the other hand was always himself. Mostly because he didn’t really want to be anything or anyone different. But he felt more accepted for his crazy antics and random thoughts when he was with Michael. Michael didn’t lecture him about how he needed to make better choices and he never gave him crap about wanting to go out the night before a 6am practise.
They usually ended up sharing a bed because they’re both too lazy to actually put sheets on the beds in their guestrooms and there have been one or two - okay, seven - instances where they woke up pressed against one another. Five out of those seven times, it had sort of escalated and ended in wandering hands, pushed down underwear and, ultimately, them making a mess on the sheets or even each other.
Ryan was more aggressive than Michael. He was more forceful when he pushed Michael back into the pillows, his kisses always ended with biting down on Michael’s lips and his grip was firmer when he held Michael down.
Michael on the other hand liked to draw things out. All through his life, he always had to rush through everything, it was always about being faster than others and getting to the finish line first. So Michael figured there should at least be one thing in his life where he took his sweet time and that so happened to be in the bedroom with Ryan writhing underneath him. Besides, all the gasps and noises coming out of Ryan were sort of addictive so the longer Michael heard them, the better.
*
It’s 2pm on Friday when Ryan arrives in Baltimore. He tosses his bag onto the backseat of Michael’s car then gets in at the front, letting out a satisfied groan once he’s sitting.
“So til Wednesday, huh?” Michael asks as he swerves the car back into the outgoing traffic.
“Gregg and Matt are driving me crazy, man. Thought I’d escape before they recruit my dad.”
“Hauling ass out of the city is totally going to make that one better.”
“Shut up. I’m just sick and tired of the same old lectures. They know how I do shit. I can’t function any other way.” He adjusts his seatbelt and looks over at Michael, changing the subject. “Do you have food at home?”
“Do I ever?”
Ryan rolls his eyes. “What do you do when I’m not around, starve?”
“I know how to take care of myself.”
Ryan pokes Michael’s side and his fingertip makes contact with less muscle than there used to be. “Obviously.” he grins.
They catch each other up on their lives while they wander the aisles of the grocery store, each throwing random items - none of which are even remotely healthy - into their cart. Ryan talks a lot about what the babies and dogs are up to and sometimes, Michael has to actually ask which species Ryan is talking about because clearly, everyone in the Lochte-family is borderline insane. Michael only ever talks about his mom, Herman and Stella. Ryan attracts a few looks when he laughs loudly after Michael tells him that Stella almost peed against the Superbowl trophy.
As they’re about to pay, Michael notices a package of pens inbetween cereal and soda bottles and he holds them up with raised eyebrows.
“I got bored on the plane and I forgot to bring mine.” Ryan snatches the packet out of Michael’s hands and pays for them himself.
It is only when they’re unpacking their groceries at home that Michael notices that Ryan hasn’t bought any paper to go with the pens.
They have pizza and wings for dinner, because it’s Friday and it’s a Ryan-thing and Michael is never going to argue about it again after one particularly long discussion that dates back to the time they first met.
They’re just hanging out on the couch after dinner and watch a movie and at some point Michael wakes up from a sleep he didn’t know he fell into when he feels something tickling his leg. He wants to shake it off in his half-asleep state, but can’t because something is holding his leg down.
So Michael is opening his eyes and what he sees is Ryan kneeling on the floor, slightly hunched over his leg, concentration etched into his features as he’s drawing. And then Michael makes the connection that the tickling comes from the pen moving across his skin, guided by Ryan’s hand.
“What’re you doing?” Michael mumbles, not even raising his head to properly look at what Ryan’s kept himself busy with.
“Who doesn’t have paper in their house, dude?”
“I have, it’s in the desk-drawer upstairs.” He pauses before repeating. “What are you doing?”
“I mean, it’s actually kind of genius isn’t it? Way easier than getting you to a tattoo place.” At that, Michael finally attempts to sit up, which makes Ryan hold onto his leg a little harder for a moment. “Dude, hold still or I’ll mess it up!” he warns.
So Michael carefully sits up enough to lean back on his arms as he takes a look at the drawing on his lower leg. Ryan leans back a little and Michael sees that Ryan has drawn a snake. He’d started on the top of his foot and then let the snake curve up past his ankle. Its head is pointed up towards Michael’s knee and for something Ryan must have jotted down in the not even two hours Michael has been asleep, it’s very detailed. He had coloured in the tongue and the snake’s eyes look focused, like they’re watching its prey. The snake’s skin is a mixture of green and brown and the colours stand out against Michael’s pale skin. It’s a great drawing and Michael has to admit it does look kind of nice on him.
“Why a snake?” he asks.
Ryan shrugs a shoulder as he continues colouring in the snake’s skin. “Found one in the backyard the other day. Sorta reminded me of you.”
“Do I wanna know why those fucking creatures remind you of me?”
“The way you appear, man. Like, you’re just, you know, sneaking up on people. Like, nobody really notices you until you’re just there. And like, some people get totally scared because they don’t know if you’re the good or the bad kind, you know? But once you settle in, you’re just staying and nobody has the heart to just put you back into the wilderness.”
“So did you and Dev adopt a snake now?”
Ryan chuckles. “Totally would’ve, but Carter wasn’t so thrilled by it. So if we’re still going with comparisons, he likes you better. But I’m not gonna draw your face on my dog, forget about that right away.”
Michael laughs lightly before laying back down, pulling up another movie, while Ryan finishes up on his leg. Once he’s done, he gets back onto the couch and pulls Michael’s legs on his lap to admire his own handiwork. He takes a few photos on his phone and runs his hands across Michael’s skin, checking if maybe he missed a spot somewhere.
At one point, Ryan’s thumb brushes against Michael’s ankle. The touch is fleeting and barely there, but for some reason, it still makes Michael shudder and draw in a short breath. Ryan notices because really, he is way more observant than the rest of the world gives him credit for, and when Michael’s brown eyes meet his blues, he’s doing it again, watching as Michael’s eyes flutter closed.
Ryan adjusts his position and is kneeling above Michael’s legs, as both his hands skim across the skin. He moves them up, alternating between barely touching and kneading along Michael’s legs and by the time he reaches the back of Michael’s knees, he gets a moan in response.
Ryan moves his hands further up and lets them slide into the shorts Michael’s wearing. Michael swallows hard, his breathing picks up and it gets more and more difficult to keep his eyes open and focussed.
Reality sets back in when Ryan suddenly pulls his hands out from inside Michael’s shorts. Michael opens his eyes and suddenly Ryan is there, hovering just a few inches above him, his lips dangerously close. The whining sound Michael was about to make gets swallowed by Ryan as he presses his lips onto Michael’s.
Michael is breathing heavy when Ryan breaks the kiss.
“God, you’re so easy.” Ryan grins down at him and moves his leg inbetween Michael’s, feeling the outlines of his hard dick as he’s promptly grinding against him. Michael doesn’t even bother with a response because yeah, Ryan’s right.
Ryan sits back up and Michael wants to protest, but Ryan’s hands are back on his shorts, toying with the waistband.
“Well, these are just unnecessary.” Ryan declares and tugs the shorts down together with Michael’s underwear.
Ryan doesn’t waste time with actually pulling Michael’s clothes off before he takes hold of Michael’s cock, immediately setting up a rhythm. Michael groans and his head thumbs back against the couch as Ryan is leaning slightly forward, supporting his weight on his outstretched arm next to Michael’s head.
Ryan is barely doing anything apart from tightening and loosening his grip on Michael every few moments. He just watches as Michael’s face changes whenever he bucks up into Ryan’s hand, moaning at the combined sensation of that and the friction from grinding against Ryan’s leg that is still firmly tucked inbetween his.
“God Michael, you’re so hot like this.” Ryan is leaning back down and sucks on a spot on Michael’s collar bone while Michael frantically reaches out his hands to hold onto Ryan, touch wherever he can reach. In the end one hand clings to Ryan’s back, the other is digging so hard into Ryan’s arm that Ryan can practically feel the marks from his fingernails etching into his skin.
Ryan is twisting his wrist a little and suddenly, Michael is moaning so loudly that it momentarily drowns out everything else. Michael arches his back off the couch and his breath hitches and if he knew how to form words right now, he probably would never stop talking about how good it feels to have Ryan’s hand on him, how he doesn’t want Ryan to remove his lips from his body, ever.
When Michael comes, it’s like his body is frozen for a few seconds. Whatever he wants to say or do gets stuck somewhere before he can express himself and he goes completely still underneath Ryan before all tension slips out of him a moment later, accompanied by a long, drawn-out groan.
Ryan keeps his hand on Michael as he comes down from his high-like state, lazily kissing along his jawline as Michael tries to bring his breathing back to normal.
“Wow, dude.” Michael lets out after a few minutes, still panting.
Ryan chuckles against Michael’s skin. “Thank you.”
Michael just laughs in response before adding more pressure to his grip on Ryan’s back, forcing him to lay down on top of him.
“Dude, you’re gross. There’s jizz all over your shirt.” But he settles down anyway.
They keep laying on the couch for nearly an hour, Ryan pressed against Michael with his head nestled in the crook of Michael’s neck and Michael drawing lazy patterns underneath the hem of Ryan’s t-shirt. Every once in a while the silence gets broken when one of them says something, but mostly they’re just laying there, breathing easily.
Ryan is the one who disentangles their bodies at the end. He pads into the kitchen and grabs himself a drink from the fridge before announcing that he’s going to bed. Michael is almost too blissed out to move, but when he alternates between a night on the couch without even as much as a blanket or a night in his bed with the chance of Ryan wrapped around him, he knows the choice is made and follows Ryan upstairs.
Michael knows that maybe he should shower, but he can still smell and feel Ryan on his skin and when he enters his bedroom, Ryan is there on his bed, lazily smiling up at him and so all that Michael does is throw his t-shirt into a corner of his room and exchange his shorts for a pair of pyjama pants, before climbing into bed with Ryan. He isn’t even settled properly before Ryan reaches for his arm and wraps it around his torso and Michael adjusts himself against Ryan’s back and within minutes, they’re both dead to the world.
*
When Michael wakes up the next morning, Ryan isn’t there. Michael doesn’t really pay any mind to it, because, even when Ryan’s with him in Baltimore, he still goes to practise. Or at least as close to practise as it gets for him. Usually it just means he rolls out of bed at some point and he goes to the pool to get his skin wet, because being dry for a longer period of time just doesn’t feel right for him.
So Michael shuffles over to the door to let Herman in - at some point his four-legged roommate made the decision to just sleep in the living room with a snoring Stella when Ryan was around - before he blearily stumbles into the shower. The water pelting down on him surely wakes him up, but it’s only when he sees the remnants of dark ink coming off his leg and being sucked down the drain that he suddenly feels wide awake.
Michael spends longer in the shower than he intends to, daydreaming about the previous night’s events, more than secretly hoping for a repetition as long as Ryan is still around.
When Michael stumbles down the stairs in search for any form of breakfast, still in some sort of daze, he notices the TV is on and he spots Ryan’s feet sticking out over the arm of his couch. He momentarily forgets about breakfast and sneaks closer, risking a look at Ryan’s face from behind the couch, seeing that he’s asleep.
Ryan can sleep through pretty much everything, so Michael isn’t surprised that he doesn’t even stir when Michael pries the remote out of Ryan’s fingers to turn off the TV. He does squirm a little bit when Michael carefully positions himself above him, trapping him with his body.
Michael dips his head down to nip on Ryan’s lips and he feels them turn into a smile as Ryan slowly wakes up, his eyes remaining closed, his breathing changing only a little bit.
“Hey.” Michael murmurs against Ryan’s lips, knowing that he’s at least awake enough to respond.
“Mmmm hi.” Ryan mumbles back.
“Tired?”
“Not enough for this.” Ryan hums contently when Michael slips one of his hands under his t-shirt, skimming his hipbones with his fingers. “I like where this is headed.” He sleepily smiles up at Michael.
Michael kisses him again, this time more intense and more forceful and more everything. Ryan does his best to respond, but the gets the feeling that Michael maybe doesn’t even want him to and he’s more than happy to oblige.
“I think you may like where this is gonna end even more.”
Michael grins down at Ryan before he slips his hand inside Ryan’s sweatpants, wrapping his fingers around Ryan’s hardening dick immediately, not wasting any time before he starts moving his hand up and down.
“Oh God!” Ryan hisses out and suddenly he seems awake all over. All his senses are responding at an almost overwhelming intensity and they all tell him the same thing. Good, so fucking good.
Michael scoots back a little on the couch to give himself more room to move and he tugs down Ryan’s sweatpants and underwear, his eyes wandering back and forth between his hand moving on Ryan’s cock and Ryan’s face. His eyes are closed as he’s leaning back against the couch cushions, his lips slightly parted, a string of nonsensical words and sounds coming out of his mouth.
The fact that Ryan seems more than distracted for the moment makes Michael more confident than he normally is during their encounters. Not that he minds the hand jobs while making out with Ryan. Because he doesn’t. Ryan could probably kiss his way out of a murder-trial, he’s that good at it. But certain times just call for more and Michael figures that this is one of those moments.
Ryan’s eyes snap open as soon as he feels Michael’s breath ghosting on his dick and before his brain can get up to speed, Michael has already eagerly sucked him into his mouth.
Michael looks up at Ryan and their eyes meet for a moment.
“Oh daaaamn … fuuuuuuuck.” is all Ryan says before dropping his head back down, his hands coming to hold onto strands of Michael’s hair.
Michael resists the urge to chuckle at Ryan’s inability to form sentences and instead keeps running his tongue up and down the length of Ryan’s cock, getting spurred on whenever Ryan’s grip tightens and he feels Ryan’s muscles spasm under his fingers. He closes his lips around Ryan and sucks him down again, making Ryan moan louder and slightly thrusting into Michael’s mouth, even with Michael holding him down. It makes Michael pin him down harder the next time he sinks his head down on Ryan and Ryan’s moan gets even louder. Michael keeps his movements going for a few more times before pulling off almost completely, letting his tongue just lick the head of Ryan’s cock for a while, making Ryan basically growl underneath him.
“Michael, just … oh god, just … please.”
It’s the most Ryan has said in the last few minutes and Michael moans around Ryan’s dick as he’s sucking him down again almost completely. Ryan looks down at Michael again just as Michael looks up at him and that’s all it takes and Ryan comes down Michael’s throat, a moan getting stuck in his throat, so all that does come out is a drawn-out breath.
Michael watches as Ryan slowly calms down, his body relaxing and his breathing returning to normal. He looks wrecked and it seems like the lazy smile won’t disappear from his face any time soon. It even widens a little when Ryan is looking up at Michael. Michael smiles back at him and then Ryan tugs him down until he is close enough to kiss.
“So this was unexpected.” he says as Michael is settling down at Ryan’s side, squeezed in between the back of the couch and half next to and half on top of Ryan.
“Nice unexpected or ‘dude, don’t ever do this again’ unexpected?”
Ryan chuckles. “Nice. Definitely very nice. In fact, if you ever feel like doing this again, I won’t stop you.”
They keep laying on the couch, both almost dozing off when Michael speaks up again.
“The snake came off in the shower.”
“Yeah. Decided to not go for waterproof. Just in case.”
“I liked the snake.”
“So get one done.”
Michael snorts. “Yeah right, I don’t think so.”
Ryan pulls him a little tighter against him. “I’ll draw you something new.”
“I’d like that.”
Michael and Ryan end up spending most of the day on the couch. In the afternoon, Michael gets forced into some calls and Ryan takes the opportunity to go on a walk with Stella and Herman. When he gets back to Michael’s, there are nachos and beer and Michael has already fired up the XBox.
In the evening, they’re slumped against one another on the couch again, watching another movie. Herman is tucked against Michael’s hip, Stella is spread out next to Ryan with her head resting on his thigh.
Michael’s eyes keep drifting to the pens, still scattered on his coffee table from the night before.
“We’re going to Mom’s for dinner tomorrow.” he tells Ryan.
“Yeah, okay.” comes Ryan’s response as he’s scratching Stella behind he ears.
It’s silent for a few more minutes until Michael speaks again.
“Can you draw me something?”
Ryan looks up at him. “What, like right now?”
Michael nods.
“The paper is upstairs. I don’t wanna move, too comfortable.”
“You didn’t need paper last night.”
Ryan grins. “You actually like me drawing on you.”
Michael shrugs.
“You’re a freak, Michael Phelps.” But still, Ryan reaches for one of the pens. “What do you want?”
Michael shrugs again. “Like, I don’t know, just … something.”
“Descriptive.” He pauses. “Where?”
Michael thinks for a moment, then pulls up the sleeve of his sweater, draping his forearm across Ryan’s lap, the inside facing upwards.
Michael focuses back on the film as Ryan taps the pen against his lips in thought for a few minutes, thinking of possible things to draw. After a while, Michael hears Ryan pulling the cap off the pen and seconds later, he feels the first lines getting drawn.
It takes almost the length of a second film until Michael risks the first look down at his arm. He knows Ryan doesn’t really mind if he sees the work in progress, but Michael prefers the element of surprise so he stayed intensely focused on the film while Ryan was busy drawing. All that Michael noticed was that Ryan stuck to only one pen this time instead of opting for colours.
When he looks down, Michael isn’t sure what exactly he’s really looking at for a moment but then it’s like everything is suddenly coming together and he can see a picture forming.
It looks like Ryan has illustrated a timeline of Michael’s life across his arm, starting near his elbow, moving along towards his wrist. At first he sees what looks like a starting block at the pool. There are lane lines and waves so Michael assumes it actually is a pool. In the middle of his arm, the waves suddenly fade out and the straight lane lines curve out a little bit, going wider across the inside of his arm. There are a few little dots scattered around it and Michael can see a little stick coming out of one with a triangular flag attached to it. It hits him that it’s supposed to be a golf course. He takes in more details and sees that Ryan has drawn a lot of little shooting stars over what is supposedly the pool and on closer look, he notices that the shooting stars are meant to be his gold medals because there are exactly 18 of them.
Ryan is still adding some touches to the final part of his drawing and Michael can’t yet tell what it is, but what he’s seeing so far is amazing. He’s blown away by how much stuff Ryan managed to fit onto his arm in such detail that you can still tell what it is supposed to be.
Michael waits patiently until Ryan is done and tosses the pen back onto the coffee table before he takes another look and he laughs when he sees that the final thing Ryan drew is an alligator with an open mouth, awaiting a baseball that was hit halfway across the golf course with a bat.
Ryan leans back and looks down at Michael’s arm and smiles to himself, looking satisfied with his drawing. “Can you tell what it is?” he asks Michael.
Michael nods. “I don’t get the gator at the end.”
“Florida has gators.”
“So you keep telling me. I still haven’t seen one.”
“Maybe you should be there more often.”
Michael looks at Ryan. “Yeah?”
“I wouldn’t be totally against it.”
Michael smiles and leans down to gently kiss Ryan.
“This is amazing. Thank you.”
Ryan smiles back. “Take a picture before it’ll be gone tomorrow.”
Michael reaches for his phone and takes a few pictures, Ryan doing the same.
“Dude, this is so cool.” Michael says, still mesmerized by the drawing on his arm. He looks back at Ryan. “I honestly don’t wanna shower tomorrow so this won’t come off and I can show it to Mom and the girls.”
“Man, gross.”
“What?! Not like you never went a day without a shower.”
“Yeah but like …” Ryan leans into Michael’s neck and starts planting kisses on the skin, “I was going to reward you for this morning and like … let’s just say you maybe shouldn’t go to see your mom smelling of orgasm.”
“There’s a scent?”
Ryan nods against Michael’s skin. “Dude, if they bottled the way you smell after you came, they’d make bank. Fuck, I’d go broke on that stuff.”
Michael wants to laugh, but Ryan’s lips find a spot on his neck and she starts sucking on it and Michael’s laugh turns into a breathy moan.
“Dude … Mom … tomorrow.” is all that Michael seems capable of saying and he hopes that Ryan catches the drift. No hickeys.
He does and instead kisses Michael, long and hard and intense, while pushing his sweatshirt up his chest. Michael sinks back onto the couch, pulling Ryan along. His skin already feels on fire and he peels the sweatshirt off, careful to not smear the lines of Ryan’s drawing. He thinks that maybe he should put some clear foil on it, like they do on actual tattoos, but he can’t finish the thought because Ryan’s lips are attacking his chest now, sucking hard on a spot just below his ribcage.
Michael’s hands come to rest on Ryan’s shoulders and Ryan gets a glimpse of his drawing in the corner of his eye. It makes him suck and lick and kiss even more and harder on Michael’s skin and Michael already almost blacks out from the sensation of it and Ryan hasn’t even gotten to the good part yet.
Ryan’s lips are now just above the waistband of Michael’s sweatpants. Michael starts to squirm underneath him and Ryan smiles against his skin when Michael impatiently tugs down both his pants and underwear and starts jerking off.
Ryan pulls away a little and keeps watching Michael’s hand moving on himself, almost subconsciously bringing his own hand down and pressing the heel against the front of his pants.
“So hot, Mike. Keep going.” he breathes against Michael’s hip and Michael moans before stroking himself even more furiously.
“Please, Ryan.”
“Please what? Tell me what you want.”
“Suck me.” Michael exhales before a strangled sound escapes him.
Ryan continues to kiss along the lines of Michael’s hipbones, getting closer and closer to Michael’s dick. He stills Michael’s hand with his own before darting out his tongue and running it up the shaft, circling around the head. He starts moving his hand around Michael’s, falling into a rhythm as wraps his lips around Michael’s dick and starts sucking him down.
Michael is writhing underneath Ryan and he can’t stop his hips from bucking up a little into Ryan’s mouth and the fact that Ryan doesn’t really stop him from it makes the sensations going through his body about three times as intense as they already are. He has long given up on trying to articulate anything and is reduced to a jumble of moans and pants.
Seeing Michael being so completely beside himself, knowing that he’s the one who got him there, makes Ryan only suck Michael down harder. Michael is holding onto Ryan’s shoulder so hard that Ryan’s sure that there will be bruises in the morning, but all he wants is for Michael to keep making those noises. He slips his hand into his own sweatpants and starts stroking himself, moaning around Michael’s dick which results in another string of cut-off moans.
Ryan starts bobbing his head up and down on Michael faster, moving his hand on himself at the same speed. It doesn’t take long until Michael’s grip on Ryan’s shoulder loosens and he keeps tapping him, getting close. But instead of pulling off, Ryan hollows his cheeks and sucks even harder.
When Michael comes down Ryan’s throat, he is muttering his name over and over like a mantra between ragged breaths. He smoothes his hand over Ryan’s shoulder, looking down at Ryan still keeping his mouth around Michael, his hand speeding up inside his sweatpants.
“Come on Ryan, come for me.” Michael urges on and that seems to be all that Ryan needs because he pulls his mouth off of Michael and rests his forehead against his hips as he comes with a groan.
They stay in their position for what seems like minutes until Ryan finally moves and collapses on top of Michael.
“This keeps happening.” he says against Michael’s chest, his fingers sliding across the drawing on Michael’s arm.
“This being?”
“Orgasms.”
“Do you mind?”
“Dude, who minds orgasms?”
“Can you stop saying ‘orgasms’? Makes me feel like I’m in school.”
Ryan chuckles. He looks up at Michael with his chin resting on his chest. “I didn’t come here for …” he gestures between them, “… this.”
“I didn’t think you did.” Michael pauses. “I didn’t say yes to you coming here because of this either.”
“So does this mean something?”
“What?”
“That we keep doing it.”
“Do we have to figure it out right now?”
Ryan shakes his head. “Guess not.”
Ryan lays back down and breathes deeply against Michael’s chest. Michael pokes him in the shoulder.
“Are you going to move?”
“I didn’t plan on it.”
“I’m not sleeping on my couch with your dead weight on top of me.”
Ryan huffs.
“Yeah, that won’t help you. Get your ass off of me.”
Michael shoves at Ryan and reluctantly, Ryan eventually gets up. They rock-paper-scissor over who has to clean up and who gets to take the dogs out - Ryan loses two out of three. So Michael leashes up the dogs and Ryan cleans up the mess Michael had left in the kitchen earlier. He loads up the dishwasher and throws out empty bottles and he is only a little bit surprised by how little it freaks him out that he knows where to find what in Michael’s kitchen.
Ryan is just about to switch off the lights downstairs and head up to bed when Michael returns. He smiles at Ryan as he unleashes the dogs and then follows him up the stairs.
Michael gets changed into his pyjama pants and Ryan does the same, wincing at the mess he made inside his pants just earlier, tossing his underwear onto the already existing pile of his laundry in a corner of Michael’s room. Michael steals a glimpse at Ryan’s naked form and his mind immediately supplies images of the intensity on Ryan’s face as he watched Michael jerk off earlier and Michael has to force himself to look away.
Michael crawls into bed first and Ryan gets in after him, immediately settling his back against Michael’s chest. He rests his head on Michael’s arm and looks directly at the drawing from earlier.
“It really looks good.” he mumbles, pulling Michael’s other arm tighter around his waist.
“It does.” Michael closes his eyes, breathing in Ryan’s scent. “By the way, I am totally not going to shower tomorrow.”
When Ryan answers, Michael can hear the smile in his voice. “Freak.”
Michael smiles as well and scoots even closer to Ryan and it doesn’t take long and they’re both asleep.
*
On the next day, Ryan and Michael are heading over to Debbie’s house. Ryan makes them pull over at a flower stand and he gets three bouquets for Debbie, Whitney and Hilary, much to Michael’s amusement. It’s not the first time he’s brought Ryan to family dinners, it’s almost part of the deal now, so there is no need for Ryan to play nice and suck up to Michael’s family, yet he still insists to do it.
They get to Debbie’s house and once the greetings are made and flowers are handed over, Michael gets summoned to work in the kitchen while Ryan gets asked if maybe he could keep an eye on the kids. He doesn’t really get a say in the matter though, because Taylor and Connor are already on either side of him and are dragging him towards the living room.
Michael stands awkwardly in the kitchen when Whitney hands him a knife and some carrots. “Go wash your hands and chop these.” she says.
Michael pulls up the sleeves of his sweater and goes to the sink to wash his hands when suddenly a scream of “Michael Fred Phelps, what in the world is this?” brings a sudden stop to all activities in the kitchen and all they hear is Ryan’s laugh echoing through from the living room.
Michael follows his mother’s eyes and they stare at the exposed drawing on his arm because for a moment he had actually forgotten it was there. He chuckles. “Relax, Mom. This isn’t permanent.”
Debbie just raises her eyebrows.
“It’s a drawing, not a tattoo. Ryan did it last night.”
Debbie relaxes. “Uh-huh.” is all she says before going back to what she did before she felt the need to alert half the neighbourhood with her yelling.
“Pretty cool, isn’t it?” Michael asks, showing his arm around to his sisters.
“Looks great.” Whitney says before exchanging a smile with Debbie and Hilary.
“What?” Michael asks dumbfounded, because there is obviously something he doesn’t understand going on between the three women.
“Anything else Ryan gets to do to you besides drawing on your arm?” Whitney asks.
“He did a - … Wait, what?! No! What are you even talking about?” Michael blushes, which only makes his mom and sisters laugh at him.
“Oh little brother …” Hilary pats him on the shoulder.
“What are you guys even talking about? Mom?” Michael looks at Debbie.
“Honey, Ryan is very present in your life.”
“We’ve known each other for a long time, of course he is.”
“You two are throwing a crazy amount of money into seeing each other because you can’t be apart for longer than a month.” Hilary reasons. “He’s brought us flowers, like this is the first time he’s meeting us.”
“That’s because he’s been raised in a decent part of Florida instead of the backwoods. He’s being polite.”
“When I told Taylor and Connor that Ryan was going to be here, they got all excited because Uncle Ryan always thinks of the best games to play. Uncle Ryan, Michael.” Whitney adds.
“Guys, there isn’t … Ryan’s not … We’re friends, okay?”
Whitney just snorts, Debbie sighs and Hilary says, “Whatever you say.” before they’re all resuming their work on the food and Michael just stands there looking back and forth between all of them, wondering if there maybe is something going on that he just didn’t catch up on yet.
When they’re sitting at the dinner table, Ryan is sitting across from Michael, Taylor and Connor on either side of him. He helps Taylor fill up her plate and cuts up the meat for Connor and listens when the kids are talking about school, asking them questions about their friends and teachers. Every so often he looks up at Michael and smiles at him and Michael smiles back, partly because it just feels really good to see Ryan fit into his family so effortlessly.
Ryan makes sure that Debbie, Whitney, Hilary and Michael stay seated after dinner while him and the kids clear the table and deal with the dishes in the kitchen. They return with tea for all of them and then just sit around in the living room talking to each other. Ryan is sitting on the floor, leaning against the couch with Connor asleep in his lap and whenever he tells a story about one or the other crazy things him and Devon get up to, Michael can’t help but smile fondly. Apparently, it doesn’t go unnoticed because one time Whitney catches him do it and she slightly squeezes his leg and knowingly smiles at him.
On the drive home, Michael is quiet and Ryan doesn’t push him to talk. They get home and Michael announces that he’s going to take the dogs out. And while he’s walking through his neighbourhood, he keeps thinking back to the evening and the things his mom and sisters said. His mind flashes back to times he’s spend with Ryan, them laughing with each other, hanging out with Ryan’s family in Florida and how it was to see Ryan with his family earlier that night and it makes his heart beat a little faster. It makes Michael think that maybe this is the way things should be.
When he gets home, it is already dark downstairs, apart from the light illuminating the staircase, indicating that Ryan must already be in bed. He silently makes his way upstairs, but when he gets to his bedroom, he sees Ryan is still awake, laying on this stomach with his back towards the door, reading a book propped against his pillow.
“Sorry, but I’ll never get used to seeing you read a book.”
Ryan looks back over his shoulder and smiles. “Mom said it may help me relax. Turns out she was right.”
Michael strips out of his clothes and heads into his bathroom to brush his teeth. “Really nice evening tonight.” he calls back out to Ryan, “Whit said Taylor and Connor were totally excited about you being there.”
“I can’t wait for the babies to get to their age.” Ryan muses.
Michael returns into the bedroom a few minutes later and gets into bed next to Ryan who keeps reading his book as Michael watches him.
“So Mom and the girls think there’s something going on between us.” Michael breaks their silence.
Ryan looks up from his book. “Oh yeah?”
Michael nods. “They saw the drawing and wondered if there’s anything else you’re getting to do to me.”
“Did you tell them?”
“I don’t think my Mom needs to know about you blowing me on my couch.”
Ryan chuckles. “Not that but …” He marks the page in his book before shutting it and sitting up, facing Michael. “I mean, there is something here. Between us.”
Michael looks back at Ryan who seems completely at ease. “Yeah. There is.”
“So like, is that bad or …?”
Michael shakes his head. “Do you think it is?”
“Do you think we’d still see each other this much if either of us thought what we’re doing isn’t good?”
“No, I know. But like … it feels different this time. Somehow. Like, it feels like there’s more to it.”
At that, Ryan looks down at his hands. He doesn’t say anything for a few moments, but when he speaks up, he starts out silently, unusual for him.
“Everyone has these expectations in me, you know.” he mumbles, “They all want me to be a certain way and do things differently and I’m like, why now? Like, I am not the guy to drive myself crazy over swimming, I go out and party whenever I want. But I still show up to practise and I still do what Gregg wants me to do. But like, it feels like, at the moment, he wishes he could tie me to a chair and only let me out when I’m at practise and just … I can’t do that, that’s not me. But like, when I’m with you it’s like … all that shit just doesn’t matter, you know. You never cared about the way I do things. I feel like I am actually just Ryan to you, but to everyone else, I am suddenly the swimmer instead of Ryan. And like … I like that you don’t care. I like that you see me the way you see me and I like being seen like that and everything else just … it sort of happened and like, I’m okay with that. And like, I don’t need to put a label on this thing, but like … I don’t really feel the need to get out there and look for something that I have when I’m with you so … yeah, that’s that.”
Michael reaches out his arm and slips his fingers inbetween Ryan’s, just holding on. “I get that.” he starts, “I never really thought about, you know, this. It’s just … it happens when we’re together but just … it doesn’t freak me out. I like spending time with you because it’s always been the closest my life gets to normal when I’m with you. And tonight I saw you with Taylor and Connor and with Mom and Whit and Hilary and just … it feels like maybe you should be there. Permanently. And I never even got close to feeling like that with anyone else and the crazy thing is that it doesn’t scare me that I’m feeling like this now. At all. I always thought that everything was ultimately going to change when I meet someone who I really want to be with. How I have to make sure they understand who I am and what I do and having to hope they get along with my family and fitting into my life and me having to fit into theirs. And I mean, I have all that already. With you. So like, why should I be going around looking for someone that fits into my life the way you do when you already do that?”
Ryan looks up at Michael and for a few moments, they’re just shyly smiling each other, Michael rubbing his thumb along the back of Ryan’s hand.
“God, we’re cheesy.” Ryan says after a while and laughs.
“I think every relationship needs a little bit of cheesy every once in a while.”
“Relationship, huh?”
Michael bites his lip. “I guess. Or not?”
“Relationship sounds good.”
Ryan then moves over to straddle Michael’s thighs, pulling him in for a deep kiss. Michael wraps his arms around Ryan’s back, pressing him impossibly closer, holding on tight. They kiss slowly, knowing that they don’t have to go any further than that because there is plenty of time ahead for them.
They fall asleep tucked against each other, Ryan’s leg thrown over Michael and his face nuzzled against his collar bone, Michael’s lips against Ryan’s forehead.
*
Michael wakes up laying on his stomach, no longer tucked against Ryan. Ryan is laying next to him in a t-shirt and sweatpants, on top of the sheets, looking like he’d already been up earlier, but went back to bed and fell asleep again.
Michael gets out of bed, carefully to not wake Ryan. He thinks it may be time to finally shower, even though he still doesn’t want Ryan’s drawing to fade away. But he has the pictures to remember and it’s not like Ryan is going to disappear out of his life anytime soon.
Michael starts up the shower, but stops dead in his tracks when he catches something on his back as he’s passing the mirror. He turns around to look and sees that Ryan has drawn on him again, this time over his entire back, something he must’ve done while Michael was still asleep. Michael twists and turns, but he can’t really make out most of the things that Ryan has drawn.
Michael turns off the shower and makes his way back into the bedroom, getting back into bed next to the still sleeping Ryan. He runs his hand across Ryan’s arm and brings his mouth close to Ryan’s ear, kissing behind it. Ryan stirs awake.
“Good morning, babe.”
“Morning.” Ryan mumbles into his pillow, eyes still closed, with a smile on his face.
“I was just about to get into the shower.”
Ryan’s eyes snap open at that.
Michael laughs against his skin. “I saw it before I could do any damage.”
“Like it?”
“I can’t really see most of it.”
“Lay down.”
Michael does as he’s told, laying down on his stomach, as Ryan moves to straddle him. He starts running his fingers over the things he’s drawn, outlining each one of them, as he tells Michael what they are.
“This is an airplane.” His fingers slide over the skin of Michael’s shoulder, “Because like, by now we probably should totally have our own airline because we travel so much. And I mean, I wouldn’t want you to leave Baltimore for me and honestly, I can’t deal with the winters up here so I think for most of the year, there will still be a lot of planes in our future.”
“I wouldn’t mind being in Florida.” Michael responds, letting out a sigh as Ryan kisses his shoulder.
“Good. Because here” He moves his fingers over to Michael’s other shoulder, “there’s Carter, Herman and Stella. Because seriously dude, they need to hang out more. Carter and Stella would make the cutest puppies. And I’m sure we can find a nice lady for Herman. Or a dude if he’s into that.”
Michael chuckles. “Are you trying to set up my dogs?”
“Everyone in your life deserves happiness. That includes your dogs.”
Michael doesn’t respond and focuses on Ryan’s hands as they’re moving to the middle of his back. It seems to be the center piece of the drawing, the biggest in size.
“This is Rio.” Ryan explains. “There’s the pool.” He drags his finger along in a straight line across Michael’s back before running them in a square a little above that. “This is the scoreboard and my name is at the top and I’ve beaten LeClos and the Clary and all of France.”
“All of them in one race?”
“Are you arguing against my fantasy, Phelps?” Ryan pinches Michael’s side.
“Wouldn’t dream of it. What else?”
Ryan’s fingers slide over to the other side of Michael’s back. “Here’s the crowd and they’re all cheering because I kicked so much ass. And there’s a banner that says ‘Team Lochte’ and here …” he circles a spot on Michael’s back, “This is you. Or well, it’s a stick figure, but with really long arms and it’s meant to be you.” He leans down and whispers into Michael’s ear. “I want you with me in Rio. I want you to see me race. And not like, as Michael Phelps, greatest Olympian of all time. I don’t want you there because you have to be there for TV or something. I want you there as my boyfriend or fiancé or fuck it, maybe even my husband. As part of my family.”
Michael turns his head and kisses Ryan, moving a little so Ryan slides off him and lays down beside him again.
“I’d love to be in Rio. As yours.” he says against Ryan’s lips and feels them curve into a smile.
“I mean, it’s still quite some time away, but like, I’m sure about this, Mike. I’m not messing around. I want us to have a future.”
Michael just nods. “Me too.”
Michael kisses Ryan again and pulls him in closer, his hand running down Ryan’s back and squeezing his ass, pushing their groins against each other. Ryan moans into his mouth and starts grinding against Michael almost automatically.
It doesn’t take long until Ryan feels Michael get hard against him and he easily slips his hand into Michael’s pants and starts to stroke him. It makes Michael break the kiss and he leans his forehead against Ryan’s shoulder and looks down at Ryan’s hand moving inside his pants.
“Ryan, I … oh god.” he moans against Ryan’s skin, “Wanna feel you, Ryan.”
Ryan stops the movements of his hand and looks at Michael. “Yeah?”
Michael just nods and thrusts into Ryan’s hand again.
“Do you have … like, we’re gonna need …”
Michael blindly reaches over to the drawer of his nightstand and fumbles around there for a bit before he produces condoms and lube.
“Really now?” Ryan asks. Michael blushes a little which Ryan finds somewhat twisted considering he is currently holding Michael’s dick in his hand.
“I was hoping this was going to happen eventually, so … yeah.”
“God, you’re amazing.”
Ryan kisses Michael again and starts tugging at Michael’s pants until Michael sits up and pulls them off. He runs his eyes down Ryan’s body, still clothed next to him.
“You can’t stay like this.”
“Are you gonna do anything about it?” He winks at Michael.
Without saying a word, Michael reaches for the hem of Ryan’s t-shirt and tugs it above his head before pushing at Ryan until he is spread out on his back. He runs his hands across Ryan’s chest, mesmerised by the fact that he can do just that whenever he wants from now on.
“God, how are you even real?” Michael says more to himself than to Ryan.
Ryan smiles up at Michael and pulls him down again, resuming their kiss. Michael’s hands find Ryan’s pants and he pulls them down a little. Ryan sits up and wriggles them off before he scoots back on the bed until he’s leaning with his back against the headboard, pulling Michael into his lap.
“I wanna do it like this.” he whispers against Michael’s lips, “You on top of me.”
Michael just nods before bringing his hand down inbetween their bodies, holding onto both their dicks, stroking up and down.
Ryan leans his head back and groans as Michael is moving his hand a little faster. “Babe, you gotta slow down or I’m gonna come before we even get to the good stuff.”
Michael locks their lips again and slows down his hand into an easy rhythm. His other hand reaches for the lube he had dumped onto the mattress earlier and presses it into Ryan’s hand.
Without breaking their kiss Ryan pops open the little tube and gets some of the lube onto his hand. He wraps his other arm a little tighter around Michael as he lets his finger ghost around near his opening. He slowly pushes the tip of his finger inside, stopping as Michael makes a strangled sound and breaks their kiss.
“Okay?” Ryan asks.
Michael nods. “Keep going.”
Ryan pushes his finger in further and starts curving it just a little, keeping his eyes on Michael’s face for any sign of discomfort. But then Michael starts to push back against his finger and for a moment, Ryan can’t breathe because the combination of Michael’s hand on his dick and his finger inside Michael and Michael’s shallow breaths against his skin seems like too much all at once.
“More, Ryan. Come on.”
Michael’s voice brings Ryan back to reality and when he blinks, there’s Michael’s eyes right in front of him, fixed on him. He pushes himself off of Ryan’s finger and then reaches his arm around until he gets a hold of Ryan’s hand. He moves Ryan’s fingers around until only two of them are outstretched and then slides back down, eyes squeezed shut and biting his lip.
Ryan lets Michael set the pace, rubbing his thumb along Michael’s lower back as Michael stops his other hand that is still wrapped around both their cocks. He kisses along Michael’s jawline until he feels Michael relax a little against him. He moves his fingers again, curving the tips a little when suddenly Michael lets out a moan and his grip around them tightens as if on reflex.
Ryan smiles against Michael’s skin, letting his tongue dart out at the sweat that starts pooling along Michael’s neck, making sure to brush his fingers against the same spot inside Michael whenever he slides down.
“Get the condom.” Michael pants after a while.
Ryan’s pulling away to look back up at Michael. “You sure?”
Michael just nods. “Need you, Ryan. Please.”
Ryan pulls his fingers out of Michael and reaches for the condom. He rips open the package and just as he’s about to bat Michael’s hand away to slide it on, Michael beats him to it.
Michael keeps one hand against the headboard of the bed and holds onto the base of Ryan’s dick with the other while Ryan holds tightly onto Michael’s hips, guiding him up a little. He looks into Michael’s eyes and wants to ask him if he’s ready, but before he can say it, Michael just nods and crushes his lips against Ryan’s as he’s slowly pushing down against Ryan’s cock.
When his tip breaches Michael’s tight entrance, Ryan swears his mind whites out for a moment. It’s like all his senses are switched off and all he’s left to do is feel as he’s slowly entering Michael.
Michael is moving down painfully slow and once Ryan’s fully inside of him, stops altogether, breathing heavily, trying to get used to the feeling. Ryan starts kissing him again and reaches down to wrap his hand around Michael’s dick, starting to stroke him slowly. Michael picks up his movement on Ryan’s cock a moment later bucking forward into his hand.
When Michael starts to move a little faster, Ryan picks up his movements as well, thrusting a little harder against Michael whenever he moves down. Michael keeps breathing out Ryan’s name and a random words and moans. He leans a little forward and when Ryan’s hips meet his on the next thrust, Michael lets out a louder moan and bites down on Ryan’s shoulder as he continues to move. His hand scrambles forward and he joins Ryan’s around his dick, stroking furiously, getting closer and closer to the edge.
“Come on, Babe. Come for me, come on.” Ryan says against Michael’s ear, sucking down on the skin and it’s like the words are all Michael needed to hear, as he’s coming over both their hands almost immediately.
Ryan looks down and he sees Michael’s come seeping through their joined hands and Michael is breathing heavily into his ear, feeling his lips smooth over the bitemarks he left just seconds earlier and that’s all it takes to make him come inside Michael.
Michael starts to slow his movements down and leans back in to kiss Ryan. It’s slow and lazy and when they break the kiss, Michael is leaning his forehead against Ryan and smiles tiredly as he moves off of Ryan.
“Wow.” he says, still out of breath.
“Likewise.” Ryan replies, stealing a kiss again, “You were so hot, Babe. Jesus.”
Michael has no idea how to reply to that, so he just keeps kissing Ryan and flops back down on the bed, looking up at him.
Ryan smiles down at Michael until an idea seems to strike him. “Hey, I forgot something. Turn back around?”
Michael looks confused for a second, but then sees Ryan pick up the pen from the nightstand and the turns back around onto his stomach. Ryan straddles the back of his thighs and uncaps the pen.
“Property … of …” he reads aloud as he keeps moving the pen on Michael’s ass. “Ryan Lochte. There, now it’s done!”
Michael cranes his neck. “Did you really just sign my ass?”
Ryan giggles and lays down next to Michael. “Just to be safe.”
“No need.” Michael says, “I’m all yours. Even though you’re a weirdo.”
“Your weirdo, right?”
“Totally mine. But I’m not gonna write it on your chest.”
“Too bad. Cause that’d be totally tattoo worthy.”
Michael chuckles. “Freak.”
Ryan pulls Michael closer, bringing their lips together again. “You love it.”
Michael runs his hands down Ryan’s back and settles against him, sighing contently. “I do, actually.”
Pairing: Ryan Lochte/Michael Phelps
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 9,719
Summary: Ryan picks up a habit of drawing on Michael
Disclaimer: Doubt it
Author's Note: Thanks a lot to greatestheroine for cheering me through this. And I hope actionlady doesn't mind that I've stolen a sentence from her.
Michael doesn’t want another tattoo. Honestly, he is perfectly fine with the two he already has. He won’t admit it publicly, but having a vibrating needle getting rammed into his body, close to his junk at that, does not rank amongst the things he really liked doing in his life.
Ryan on the other hand, he loves his tattoos. He subconsciously taps his fingers against the Olympic Rings whenever he crosses his arms in front of his chest and the gator on his shoulder even has a name. Albert. Go figure. Ryan has a new tattoo idea about once a week and if it wasn’t for the difficulty of fitting a tattoo session into his practise schedule, he’d already have way more than the two tattoos he already has.
Every other time they’re on Skype with each other, Ryan is showing Michael drawings of things he maybe possibly would like to get tattooed eventually and seriously, even if Ryan just got half of them done, he’d have some weird shit scattered all over his body.
One evening, Ryan shows Michael a drawing that doesn’t really look like anything other than swirls and odd shapes around a couple of stars and says that Devon toys with the idea of getting it tattooed across his shoulder blades.
“Your mom’s gonna kill him.”
“And me too.” Ryan laughs. “It’s still up for grabs. You want it?”
“No, thanks. I’m fine with the ones I have.”
“Dude, nobody can see them. What’s the point in having them? I should drag you to a studio and then we’re getting something together when I’m coming up.”
“Yeah, speaking of. You coming next weekend, right?”
“Yep. But I might stay a few extra days, like til Wednesday or something. Still okay?”
“Dude, sure.”
Over the past few years, Ryan and Michael had built up a nearly monthly routine of visiting each other for a few days. Whenever they could get out of practise (or even when they couldn’t) or when things got to too hectic or too boring, one of them would get on a plane. They’d always pick each other up at whatever airport whoever was flying into and on the way home, they’d stop at some grocery store and bought enough food and drinks to feed a small army so they wouldn’t necessarily have to leave the house for however long they were going to be together.
Once they were together, Michael felt like he could finally relax. For some reason, it seemed like Ryan was the only person in the world who didn’t have any expectations in him. He didn’t care if Michael was swimming or not and he never passed judgement on how Michael chose to spend his time and he never gave Michael funny looks when he said he’d thrown away a large chunk of money at the Poker table.
Ryan on the other hand was always himself. Mostly because he didn’t really want to be anything or anyone different. But he felt more accepted for his crazy antics and random thoughts when he was with Michael. Michael didn’t lecture him about how he needed to make better choices and he never gave him crap about wanting to go out the night before a 6am practise.
They usually ended up sharing a bed because they’re both too lazy to actually put sheets on the beds in their guestrooms and there have been one or two - okay, seven - instances where they woke up pressed against one another. Five out of those seven times, it had sort of escalated and ended in wandering hands, pushed down underwear and, ultimately, them making a mess on the sheets or even each other.
Ryan was more aggressive than Michael. He was more forceful when he pushed Michael back into the pillows, his kisses always ended with biting down on Michael’s lips and his grip was firmer when he held Michael down.
Michael on the other hand liked to draw things out. All through his life, he always had to rush through everything, it was always about being faster than others and getting to the finish line first. So Michael figured there should at least be one thing in his life where he took his sweet time and that so happened to be in the bedroom with Ryan writhing underneath him. Besides, all the gasps and noises coming out of Ryan were sort of addictive so the longer Michael heard them, the better.
*
It’s 2pm on Friday when Ryan arrives in Baltimore. He tosses his bag onto the backseat of Michael’s car then gets in at the front, letting out a satisfied groan once he’s sitting.
“So til Wednesday, huh?” Michael asks as he swerves the car back into the outgoing traffic.
“Gregg and Matt are driving me crazy, man. Thought I’d escape before they recruit my dad.”
“Hauling ass out of the city is totally going to make that one better.”
“Shut up. I’m just sick and tired of the same old lectures. They know how I do shit. I can’t function any other way.” He adjusts his seatbelt and looks over at Michael, changing the subject. “Do you have food at home?”
“Do I ever?”
Ryan rolls his eyes. “What do you do when I’m not around, starve?”
“I know how to take care of myself.”
Ryan pokes Michael’s side and his fingertip makes contact with less muscle than there used to be. “Obviously.” he grins.
They catch each other up on their lives while they wander the aisles of the grocery store, each throwing random items - none of which are even remotely healthy - into their cart. Ryan talks a lot about what the babies and dogs are up to and sometimes, Michael has to actually ask which species Ryan is talking about because clearly, everyone in the Lochte-family is borderline insane. Michael only ever talks about his mom, Herman and Stella. Ryan attracts a few looks when he laughs loudly after Michael tells him that Stella almost peed against the Superbowl trophy.
As they’re about to pay, Michael notices a package of pens inbetween cereal and soda bottles and he holds them up with raised eyebrows.
“I got bored on the plane and I forgot to bring mine.” Ryan snatches the packet out of Michael’s hands and pays for them himself.
It is only when they’re unpacking their groceries at home that Michael notices that Ryan hasn’t bought any paper to go with the pens.
They have pizza and wings for dinner, because it’s Friday and it’s a Ryan-thing and Michael is never going to argue about it again after one particularly long discussion that dates back to the time they first met.
They’re just hanging out on the couch after dinner and watch a movie and at some point Michael wakes up from a sleep he didn’t know he fell into when he feels something tickling his leg. He wants to shake it off in his half-asleep state, but can’t because something is holding his leg down.
So Michael is opening his eyes and what he sees is Ryan kneeling on the floor, slightly hunched over his leg, concentration etched into his features as he’s drawing. And then Michael makes the connection that the tickling comes from the pen moving across his skin, guided by Ryan’s hand.
“What’re you doing?” Michael mumbles, not even raising his head to properly look at what Ryan’s kept himself busy with.
“Who doesn’t have paper in their house, dude?”
“I have, it’s in the desk-drawer upstairs.” He pauses before repeating. “What are you doing?”
“I mean, it’s actually kind of genius isn’t it? Way easier than getting you to a tattoo place.” At that, Michael finally attempts to sit up, which makes Ryan hold onto his leg a little harder for a moment. “Dude, hold still or I’ll mess it up!” he warns.
So Michael carefully sits up enough to lean back on his arms as he takes a look at the drawing on his lower leg. Ryan leans back a little and Michael sees that Ryan has drawn a snake. He’d started on the top of his foot and then let the snake curve up past his ankle. Its head is pointed up towards Michael’s knee and for something Ryan must have jotted down in the not even two hours Michael has been asleep, it’s very detailed. He had coloured in the tongue and the snake’s eyes look focused, like they’re watching its prey. The snake’s skin is a mixture of green and brown and the colours stand out against Michael’s pale skin. It’s a great drawing and Michael has to admit it does look kind of nice on him.
“Why a snake?” he asks.
Ryan shrugs a shoulder as he continues colouring in the snake’s skin. “Found one in the backyard the other day. Sorta reminded me of you.”
“Do I wanna know why those fucking creatures remind you of me?”
“The way you appear, man. Like, you’re just, you know, sneaking up on people. Like, nobody really notices you until you’re just there. And like, some people get totally scared because they don’t know if you’re the good or the bad kind, you know? But once you settle in, you’re just staying and nobody has the heart to just put you back into the wilderness.”
“So did you and Dev adopt a snake now?”
Ryan chuckles. “Totally would’ve, but Carter wasn’t so thrilled by it. So if we’re still going with comparisons, he likes you better. But I’m not gonna draw your face on my dog, forget about that right away.”
Michael laughs lightly before laying back down, pulling up another movie, while Ryan finishes up on his leg. Once he’s done, he gets back onto the couch and pulls Michael’s legs on his lap to admire his own handiwork. He takes a few photos on his phone and runs his hands across Michael’s skin, checking if maybe he missed a spot somewhere.
At one point, Ryan’s thumb brushes against Michael’s ankle. The touch is fleeting and barely there, but for some reason, it still makes Michael shudder and draw in a short breath. Ryan notices because really, he is way more observant than the rest of the world gives him credit for, and when Michael’s brown eyes meet his blues, he’s doing it again, watching as Michael’s eyes flutter closed.
Ryan adjusts his position and is kneeling above Michael’s legs, as both his hands skim across the skin. He moves them up, alternating between barely touching and kneading along Michael’s legs and by the time he reaches the back of Michael’s knees, he gets a moan in response.
Ryan moves his hands further up and lets them slide into the shorts Michael’s wearing. Michael swallows hard, his breathing picks up and it gets more and more difficult to keep his eyes open and focussed.
Reality sets back in when Ryan suddenly pulls his hands out from inside Michael’s shorts. Michael opens his eyes and suddenly Ryan is there, hovering just a few inches above him, his lips dangerously close. The whining sound Michael was about to make gets swallowed by Ryan as he presses his lips onto Michael’s.
Michael is breathing heavy when Ryan breaks the kiss.
“God, you’re so easy.” Ryan grins down at him and moves his leg inbetween Michael’s, feeling the outlines of his hard dick as he’s promptly grinding against him. Michael doesn’t even bother with a response because yeah, Ryan’s right.
Ryan sits back up and Michael wants to protest, but Ryan’s hands are back on his shorts, toying with the waistband.
“Well, these are just unnecessary.” Ryan declares and tugs the shorts down together with Michael’s underwear.
Ryan doesn’t waste time with actually pulling Michael’s clothes off before he takes hold of Michael’s cock, immediately setting up a rhythm. Michael groans and his head thumbs back against the couch as Ryan is leaning slightly forward, supporting his weight on his outstretched arm next to Michael’s head.
Ryan is barely doing anything apart from tightening and loosening his grip on Michael every few moments. He just watches as Michael’s face changes whenever he bucks up into Ryan’s hand, moaning at the combined sensation of that and the friction from grinding against Ryan’s leg that is still firmly tucked inbetween his.
“God Michael, you’re so hot like this.” Ryan is leaning back down and sucks on a spot on Michael’s collar bone while Michael frantically reaches out his hands to hold onto Ryan, touch wherever he can reach. In the end one hand clings to Ryan’s back, the other is digging so hard into Ryan’s arm that Ryan can practically feel the marks from his fingernails etching into his skin.
Ryan is twisting his wrist a little and suddenly, Michael is moaning so loudly that it momentarily drowns out everything else. Michael arches his back off the couch and his breath hitches and if he knew how to form words right now, he probably would never stop talking about how good it feels to have Ryan’s hand on him, how he doesn’t want Ryan to remove his lips from his body, ever.
When Michael comes, it’s like his body is frozen for a few seconds. Whatever he wants to say or do gets stuck somewhere before he can express himself and he goes completely still underneath Ryan before all tension slips out of him a moment later, accompanied by a long, drawn-out groan.
Ryan keeps his hand on Michael as he comes down from his high-like state, lazily kissing along his jawline as Michael tries to bring his breathing back to normal.
“Wow, dude.” Michael lets out after a few minutes, still panting.
Ryan chuckles against Michael’s skin. “Thank you.”
Michael just laughs in response before adding more pressure to his grip on Ryan’s back, forcing him to lay down on top of him.
“Dude, you’re gross. There’s jizz all over your shirt.” But he settles down anyway.
They keep laying on the couch for nearly an hour, Ryan pressed against Michael with his head nestled in the crook of Michael’s neck and Michael drawing lazy patterns underneath the hem of Ryan’s t-shirt. Every once in a while the silence gets broken when one of them says something, but mostly they’re just laying there, breathing easily.
Ryan is the one who disentangles their bodies at the end. He pads into the kitchen and grabs himself a drink from the fridge before announcing that he’s going to bed. Michael is almost too blissed out to move, but when he alternates between a night on the couch without even as much as a blanket or a night in his bed with the chance of Ryan wrapped around him, he knows the choice is made and follows Ryan upstairs.
Michael knows that maybe he should shower, but he can still smell and feel Ryan on his skin and when he enters his bedroom, Ryan is there on his bed, lazily smiling up at him and so all that Michael does is throw his t-shirt into a corner of his room and exchange his shorts for a pair of pyjama pants, before climbing into bed with Ryan. He isn’t even settled properly before Ryan reaches for his arm and wraps it around his torso and Michael adjusts himself against Ryan’s back and within minutes, they’re both dead to the world.
*
When Michael wakes up the next morning, Ryan isn’t there. Michael doesn’t really pay any mind to it, because, even when Ryan’s with him in Baltimore, he still goes to practise. Or at least as close to practise as it gets for him. Usually it just means he rolls out of bed at some point and he goes to the pool to get his skin wet, because being dry for a longer period of time just doesn’t feel right for him.
So Michael shuffles over to the door to let Herman in - at some point his four-legged roommate made the decision to just sleep in the living room with a snoring Stella when Ryan was around - before he blearily stumbles into the shower. The water pelting down on him surely wakes him up, but it’s only when he sees the remnants of dark ink coming off his leg and being sucked down the drain that he suddenly feels wide awake.
Michael spends longer in the shower than he intends to, daydreaming about the previous night’s events, more than secretly hoping for a repetition as long as Ryan is still around.
When Michael stumbles down the stairs in search for any form of breakfast, still in some sort of daze, he notices the TV is on and he spots Ryan’s feet sticking out over the arm of his couch. He momentarily forgets about breakfast and sneaks closer, risking a look at Ryan’s face from behind the couch, seeing that he’s asleep.
Ryan can sleep through pretty much everything, so Michael isn’t surprised that he doesn’t even stir when Michael pries the remote out of Ryan’s fingers to turn off the TV. He does squirm a little bit when Michael carefully positions himself above him, trapping him with his body.
Michael dips his head down to nip on Ryan’s lips and he feels them turn into a smile as Ryan slowly wakes up, his eyes remaining closed, his breathing changing only a little bit.
“Hey.” Michael murmurs against Ryan’s lips, knowing that he’s at least awake enough to respond.
“Mmmm hi.” Ryan mumbles back.
“Tired?”
“Not enough for this.” Ryan hums contently when Michael slips one of his hands under his t-shirt, skimming his hipbones with his fingers. “I like where this is headed.” He sleepily smiles up at Michael.
Michael kisses him again, this time more intense and more forceful and more everything. Ryan does his best to respond, but the gets the feeling that Michael maybe doesn’t even want him to and he’s more than happy to oblige.
“I think you may like where this is gonna end even more.”
Michael grins down at Ryan before he slips his hand inside Ryan’s sweatpants, wrapping his fingers around Ryan’s hardening dick immediately, not wasting any time before he starts moving his hand up and down.
“Oh God!” Ryan hisses out and suddenly he seems awake all over. All his senses are responding at an almost overwhelming intensity and they all tell him the same thing. Good, so fucking good.
Michael scoots back a little on the couch to give himself more room to move and he tugs down Ryan’s sweatpants and underwear, his eyes wandering back and forth between his hand moving on Ryan’s cock and Ryan’s face. His eyes are closed as he’s leaning back against the couch cushions, his lips slightly parted, a string of nonsensical words and sounds coming out of his mouth.
The fact that Ryan seems more than distracted for the moment makes Michael more confident than he normally is during their encounters. Not that he minds the hand jobs while making out with Ryan. Because he doesn’t. Ryan could probably kiss his way out of a murder-trial, he’s that good at it. But certain times just call for more and Michael figures that this is one of those moments.
Ryan’s eyes snap open as soon as he feels Michael’s breath ghosting on his dick and before his brain can get up to speed, Michael has already eagerly sucked him into his mouth.
Michael looks up at Ryan and their eyes meet for a moment.
“Oh daaaamn … fuuuuuuuck.” is all Ryan says before dropping his head back down, his hands coming to hold onto strands of Michael’s hair.
Michael resists the urge to chuckle at Ryan’s inability to form sentences and instead keeps running his tongue up and down the length of Ryan’s cock, getting spurred on whenever Ryan’s grip tightens and he feels Ryan’s muscles spasm under his fingers. He closes his lips around Ryan and sucks him down again, making Ryan moan louder and slightly thrusting into Michael’s mouth, even with Michael holding him down. It makes Michael pin him down harder the next time he sinks his head down on Ryan and Ryan’s moan gets even louder. Michael keeps his movements going for a few more times before pulling off almost completely, letting his tongue just lick the head of Ryan’s cock for a while, making Ryan basically growl underneath him.
“Michael, just … oh god, just … please.”
It’s the most Ryan has said in the last few minutes and Michael moans around Ryan’s dick as he’s sucking him down again almost completely. Ryan looks down at Michael again just as Michael looks up at him and that’s all it takes and Ryan comes down Michael’s throat, a moan getting stuck in his throat, so all that does come out is a drawn-out breath.
Michael watches as Ryan slowly calms down, his body relaxing and his breathing returning to normal. He looks wrecked and it seems like the lazy smile won’t disappear from his face any time soon. It even widens a little when Ryan is looking up at Michael. Michael smiles back at him and then Ryan tugs him down until he is close enough to kiss.
“So this was unexpected.” he says as Michael is settling down at Ryan’s side, squeezed in between the back of the couch and half next to and half on top of Ryan.
“Nice unexpected or ‘dude, don’t ever do this again’ unexpected?”
Ryan chuckles. “Nice. Definitely very nice. In fact, if you ever feel like doing this again, I won’t stop you.”
They keep laying on the couch, both almost dozing off when Michael speaks up again.
“The snake came off in the shower.”
“Yeah. Decided to not go for waterproof. Just in case.”
“I liked the snake.”
“So get one done.”
Michael snorts. “Yeah right, I don’t think so.”
Ryan pulls him a little tighter against him. “I’ll draw you something new.”
“I’d like that.”
Michael and Ryan end up spending most of the day on the couch. In the afternoon, Michael gets forced into some calls and Ryan takes the opportunity to go on a walk with Stella and Herman. When he gets back to Michael’s, there are nachos and beer and Michael has already fired up the XBox.
In the evening, they’re slumped against one another on the couch again, watching another movie. Herman is tucked against Michael’s hip, Stella is spread out next to Ryan with her head resting on his thigh.
Michael’s eyes keep drifting to the pens, still scattered on his coffee table from the night before.
“We’re going to Mom’s for dinner tomorrow.” he tells Ryan.
“Yeah, okay.” comes Ryan’s response as he’s scratching Stella behind he ears.
It’s silent for a few more minutes until Michael speaks again.
“Can you draw me something?”
Ryan looks up at him. “What, like right now?”
Michael nods.
“The paper is upstairs. I don’t wanna move, too comfortable.”
“You didn’t need paper last night.”
Ryan grins. “You actually like me drawing on you.”
Michael shrugs.
“You’re a freak, Michael Phelps.” But still, Ryan reaches for one of the pens. “What do you want?”
Michael shrugs again. “Like, I don’t know, just … something.”
“Descriptive.” He pauses. “Where?”
Michael thinks for a moment, then pulls up the sleeve of his sweater, draping his forearm across Ryan’s lap, the inside facing upwards.
Michael focuses back on the film as Ryan taps the pen against his lips in thought for a few minutes, thinking of possible things to draw. After a while, Michael hears Ryan pulling the cap off the pen and seconds later, he feels the first lines getting drawn.
It takes almost the length of a second film until Michael risks the first look down at his arm. He knows Ryan doesn’t really mind if he sees the work in progress, but Michael prefers the element of surprise so he stayed intensely focused on the film while Ryan was busy drawing. All that Michael noticed was that Ryan stuck to only one pen this time instead of opting for colours.
When he looks down, Michael isn’t sure what exactly he’s really looking at for a moment but then it’s like everything is suddenly coming together and he can see a picture forming.
It looks like Ryan has illustrated a timeline of Michael’s life across his arm, starting near his elbow, moving along towards his wrist. At first he sees what looks like a starting block at the pool. There are lane lines and waves so Michael assumes it actually is a pool. In the middle of his arm, the waves suddenly fade out and the straight lane lines curve out a little bit, going wider across the inside of his arm. There are a few little dots scattered around it and Michael can see a little stick coming out of one with a triangular flag attached to it. It hits him that it’s supposed to be a golf course. He takes in more details and sees that Ryan has drawn a lot of little shooting stars over what is supposedly the pool and on closer look, he notices that the shooting stars are meant to be his gold medals because there are exactly 18 of them.
Ryan is still adding some touches to the final part of his drawing and Michael can’t yet tell what it is, but what he’s seeing so far is amazing. He’s blown away by how much stuff Ryan managed to fit onto his arm in such detail that you can still tell what it is supposed to be.
Michael waits patiently until Ryan is done and tosses the pen back onto the coffee table before he takes another look and he laughs when he sees that the final thing Ryan drew is an alligator with an open mouth, awaiting a baseball that was hit halfway across the golf course with a bat.
Ryan leans back and looks down at Michael’s arm and smiles to himself, looking satisfied with his drawing. “Can you tell what it is?” he asks Michael.
Michael nods. “I don’t get the gator at the end.”
“Florida has gators.”
“So you keep telling me. I still haven’t seen one.”
“Maybe you should be there more often.”
Michael looks at Ryan. “Yeah?”
“I wouldn’t be totally against it.”
Michael smiles and leans down to gently kiss Ryan.
“This is amazing. Thank you.”
Ryan smiles back. “Take a picture before it’ll be gone tomorrow.”
Michael reaches for his phone and takes a few pictures, Ryan doing the same.
“Dude, this is so cool.” Michael says, still mesmerized by the drawing on his arm. He looks back at Ryan. “I honestly don’t wanna shower tomorrow so this won’t come off and I can show it to Mom and the girls.”
“Man, gross.”
“What?! Not like you never went a day without a shower.”
“Yeah but like …” Ryan leans into Michael’s neck and starts planting kisses on the skin, “I was going to reward you for this morning and like … let’s just say you maybe shouldn’t go to see your mom smelling of orgasm.”
“There’s a scent?”
Ryan nods against Michael’s skin. “Dude, if they bottled the way you smell after you came, they’d make bank. Fuck, I’d go broke on that stuff.”
Michael wants to laugh, but Ryan’s lips find a spot on his neck and she starts sucking on it and Michael’s laugh turns into a breathy moan.
“Dude … Mom … tomorrow.” is all that Michael seems capable of saying and he hopes that Ryan catches the drift. No hickeys.
He does and instead kisses Michael, long and hard and intense, while pushing his sweatshirt up his chest. Michael sinks back onto the couch, pulling Ryan along. His skin already feels on fire and he peels the sweatshirt off, careful to not smear the lines of Ryan’s drawing. He thinks that maybe he should put some clear foil on it, like they do on actual tattoos, but he can’t finish the thought because Ryan’s lips are attacking his chest now, sucking hard on a spot just below his ribcage.
Michael’s hands come to rest on Ryan’s shoulders and Ryan gets a glimpse of his drawing in the corner of his eye. It makes him suck and lick and kiss even more and harder on Michael’s skin and Michael already almost blacks out from the sensation of it and Ryan hasn’t even gotten to the good part yet.
Ryan’s lips are now just above the waistband of Michael’s sweatpants. Michael starts to squirm underneath him and Ryan smiles against his skin when Michael impatiently tugs down both his pants and underwear and starts jerking off.
Ryan pulls away a little and keeps watching Michael’s hand moving on himself, almost subconsciously bringing his own hand down and pressing the heel against the front of his pants.
“So hot, Mike. Keep going.” he breathes against Michael’s hip and Michael moans before stroking himself even more furiously.
“Please, Ryan.”
“Please what? Tell me what you want.”
“Suck me.” Michael exhales before a strangled sound escapes him.
Ryan continues to kiss along the lines of Michael’s hipbones, getting closer and closer to Michael’s dick. He stills Michael’s hand with his own before darting out his tongue and running it up the shaft, circling around the head. He starts moving his hand around Michael’s, falling into a rhythm as wraps his lips around Michael’s dick and starts sucking him down.
Michael is writhing underneath Ryan and he can’t stop his hips from bucking up a little into Ryan’s mouth and the fact that Ryan doesn’t really stop him from it makes the sensations going through his body about three times as intense as they already are. He has long given up on trying to articulate anything and is reduced to a jumble of moans and pants.
Seeing Michael being so completely beside himself, knowing that he’s the one who got him there, makes Ryan only suck Michael down harder. Michael is holding onto Ryan’s shoulder so hard that Ryan’s sure that there will be bruises in the morning, but all he wants is for Michael to keep making those noises. He slips his hand into his own sweatpants and starts stroking himself, moaning around Michael’s dick which results in another string of cut-off moans.
Ryan starts bobbing his head up and down on Michael faster, moving his hand on himself at the same speed. It doesn’t take long until Michael’s grip on Ryan’s shoulder loosens and he keeps tapping him, getting close. But instead of pulling off, Ryan hollows his cheeks and sucks even harder.
When Michael comes down Ryan’s throat, he is muttering his name over and over like a mantra between ragged breaths. He smoothes his hand over Ryan’s shoulder, looking down at Ryan still keeping his mouth around Michael, his hand speeding up inside his sweatpants.
“Come on Ryan, come for me.” Michael urges on and that seems to be all that Ryan needs because he pulls his mouth off of Michael and rests his forehead against his hips as he comes with a groan.
They stay in their position for what seems like minutes until Ryan finally moves and collapses on top of Michael.
“This keeps happening.” he says against Michael’s chest, his fingers sliding across the drawing on Michael’s arm.
“This being?”
“Orgasms.”
“Do you mind?”
“Dude, who minds orgasms?”
“Can you stop saying ‘orgasms’? Makes me feel like I’m in school.”
Ryan chuckles. He looks up at Michael with his chin resting on his chest. “I didn’t come here for …” he gestures between them, “… this.”
“I didn’t think you did.” Michael pauses. “I didn’t say yes to you coming here because of this either.”
“So does this mean something?”
“What?”
“That we keep doing it.”
“Do we have to figure it out right now?”
Ryan shakes his head. “Guess not.”
Ryan lays back down and breathes deeply against Michael’s chest. Michael pokes him in the shoulder.
“Are you going to move?”
“I didn’t plan on it.”
“I’m not sleeping on my couch with your dead weight on top of me.”
Ryan huffs.
“Yeah, that won’t help you. Get your ass off of me.”
Michael shoves at Ryan and reluctantly, Ryan eventually gets up. They rock-paper-scissor over who has to clean up and who gets to take the dogs out - Ryan loses two out of three. So Michael leashes up the dogs and Ryan cleans up the mess Michael had left in the kitchen earlier. He loads up the dishwasher and throws out empty bottles and he is only a little bit surprised by how little it freaks him out that he knows where to find what in Michael’s kitchen.
Ryan is just about to switch off the lights downstairs and head up to bed when Michael returns. He smiles at Ryan as he unleashes the dogs and then follows him up the stairs.
Michael gets changed into his pyjama pants and Ryan does the same, wincing at the mess he made inside his pants just earlier, tossing his underwear onto the already existing pile of his laundry in a corner of Michael’s room. Michael steals a glimpse at Ryan’s naked form and his mind immediately supplies images of the intensity on Ryan’s face as he watched Michael jerk off earlier and Michael has to force himself to look away.
Michael crawls into bed first and Ryan gets in after him, immediately settling his back against Michael’s chest. He rests his head on Michael’s arm and looks directly at the drawing from earlier.
“It really looks good.” he mumbles, pulling Michael’s other arm tighter around his waist.
“It does.” Michael closes his eyes, breathing in Ryan’s scent. “By the way, I am totally not going to shower tomorrow.”
When Ryan answers, Michael can hear the smile in his voice. “Freak.”
Michael smiles as well and scoots even closer to Ryan and it doesn’t take long and they’re both asleep.
*
On the next day, Ryan and Michael are heading over to Debbie’s house. Ryan makes them pull over at a flower stand and he gets three bouquets for Debbie, Whitney and Hilary, much to Michael’s amusement. It’s not the first time he’s brought Ryan to family dinners, it’s almost part of the deal now, so there is no need for Ryan to play nice and suck up to Michael’s family, yet he still insists to do it.
They get to Debbie’s house and once the greetings are made and flowers are handed over, Michael gets summoned to work in the kitchen while Ryan gets asked if maybe he could keep an eye on the kids. He doesn’t really get a say in the matter though, because Taylor and Connor are already on either side of him and are dragging him towards the living room.
Michael stands awkwardly in the kitchen when Whitney hands him a knife and some carrots. “Go wash your hands and chop these.” she says.
Michael pulls up the sleeves of his sweater and goes to the sink to wash his hands when suddenly a scream of “Michael Fred Phelps, what in the world is this?” brings a sudden stop to all activities in the kitchen and all they hear is Ryan’s laugh echoing through from the living room.
Michael follows his mother’s eyes and they stare at the exposed drawing on his arm because for a moment he had actually forgotten it was there. He chuckles. “Relax, Mom. This isn’t permanent.”
Debbie just raises her eyebrows.
“It’s a drawing, not a tattoo. Ryan did it last night.”
Debbie relaxes. “Uh-huh.” is all she says before going back to what she did before she felt the need to alert half the neighbourhood with her yelling.
“Pretty cool, isn’t it?” Michael asks, showing his arm around to his sisters.
“Looks great.” Whitney says before exchanging a smile with Debbie and Hilary.
“What?” Michael asks dumbfounded, because there is obviously something he doesn’t understand going on between the three women.
“Anything else Ryan gets to do to you besides drawing on your arm?” Whitney asks.
“He did a - … Wait, what?! No! What are you even talking about?” Michael blushes, which only makes his mom and sisters laugh at him.
“Oh little brother …” Hilary pats him on the shoulder.
“What are you guys even talking about? Mom?” Michael looks at Debbie.
“Honey, Ryan is very present in your life.”
“We’ve known each other for a long time, of course he is.”
“You two are throwing a crazy amount of money into seeing each other because you can’t be apart for longer than a month.” Hilary reasons. “He’s brought us flowers, like this is the first time he’s meeting us.”
“That’s because he’s been raised in a decent part of Florida instead of the backwoods. He’s being polite.”
“When I told Taylor and Connor that Ryan was going to be here, they got all excited because Uncle Ryan always thinks of the best games to play. Uncle Ryan, Michael.” Whitney adds.
“Guys, there isn’t … Ryan’s not … We’re friends, okay?”
Whitney just snorts, Debbie sighs and Hilary says, “Whatever you say.” before they’re all resuming their work on the food and Michael just stands there looking back and forth between all of them, wondering if there maybe is something going on that he just didn’t catch up on yet.
When they’re sitting at the dinner table, Ryan is sitting across from Michael, Taylor and Connor on either side of him. He helps Taylor fill up her plate and cuts up the meat for Connor and listens when the kids are talking about school, asking them questions about their friends and teachers. Every so often he looks up at Michael and smiles at him and Michael smiles back, partly because it just feels really good to see Ryan fit into his family so effortlessly.
Ryan makes sure that Debbie, Whitney, Hilary and Michael stay seated after dinner while him and the kids clear the table and deal with the dishes in the kitchen. They return with tea for all of them and then just sit around in the living room talking to each other. Ryan is sitting on the floor, leaning against the couch with Connor asleep in his lap and whenever he tells a story about one or the other crazy things him and Devon get up to, Michael can’t help but smile fondly. Apparently, it doesn’t go unnoticed because one time Whitney catches him do it and she slightly squeezes his leg and knowingly smiles at him.
On the drive home, Michael is quiet and Ryan doesn’t push him to talk. They get home and Michael announces that he’s going to take the dogs out. And while he’s walking through his neighbourhood, he keeps thinking back to the evening and the things his mom and sisters said. His mind flashes back to times he’s spend with Ryan, them laughing with each other, hanging out with Ryan’s family in Florida and how it was to see Ryan with his family earlier that night and it makes his heart beat a little faster. It makes Michael think that maybe this is the way things should be.
When he gets home, it is already dark downstairs, apart from the light illuminating the staircase, indicating that Ryan must already be in bed. He silently makes his way upstairs, but when he gets to his bedroom, he sees Ryan is still awake, laying on this stomach with his back towards the door, reading a book propped against his pillow.
“Sorry, but I’ll never get used to seeing you read a book.”
Ryan looks back over his shoulder and smiles. “Mom said it may help me relax. Turns out she was right.”
Michael strips out of his clothes and heads into his bathroom to brush his teeth. “Really nice evening tonight.” he calls back out to Ryan, “Whit said Taylor and Connor were totally excited about you being there.”
“I can’t wait for the babies to get to their age.” Ryan muses.
Michael returns into the bedroom a few minutes later and gets into bed next to Ryan who keeps reading his book as Michael watches him.
“So Mom and the girls think there’s something going on between us.” Michael breaks their silence.
Ryan looks up from his book. “Oh yeah?”
Michael nods. “They saw the drawing and wondered if there’s anything else you’re getting to do to me.”
“Did you tell them?”
“I don’t think my Mom needs to know about you blowing me on my couch.”
Ryan chuckles. “Not that but …” He marks the page in his book before shutting it and sitting up, facing Michael. “I mean, there is something here. Between us.”
Michael looks back at Ryan who seems completely at ease. “Yeah. There is.”
“So like, is that bad or …?”
Michael shakes his head. “Do you think it is?”
“Do you think we’d still see each other this much if either of us thought what we’re doing isn’t good?”
“No, I know. But like … it feels different this time. Somehow. Like, it feels like there’s more to it.”
At that, Ryan looks down at his hands. He doesn’t say anything for a few moments, but when he speaks up, he starts out silently, unusual for him.
“Everyone has these expectations in me, you know.” he mumbles, “They all want me to be a certain way and do things differently and I’m like, why now? Like, I am not the guy to drive myself crazy over swimming, I go out and party whenever I want. But I still show up to practise and I still do what Gregg wants me to do. But like, it feels like, at the moment, he wishes he could tie me to a chair and only let me out when I’m at practise and just … I can’t do that, that’s not me. But like, when I’m with you it’s like … all that shit just doesn’t matter, you know. You never cared about the way I do things. I feel like I am actually just Ryan to you, but to everyone else, I am suddenly the swimmer instead of Ryan. And like … I like that you don’t care. I like that you see me the way you see me and I like being seen like that and everything else just … it sort of happened and like, I’m okay with that. And like, I don’t need to put a label on this thing, but like … I don’t really feel the need to get out there and look for something that I have when I’m with you so … yeah, that’s that.”
Michael reaches out his arm and slips his fingers inbetween Ryan’s, just holding on. “I get that.” he starts, “I never really thought about, you know, this. It’s just … it happens when we’re together but just … it doesn’t freak me out. I like spending time with you because it’s always been the closest my life gets to normal when I’m with you. And tonight I saw you with Taylor and Connor and with Mom and Whit and Hilary and just … it feels like maybe you should be there. Permanently. And I never even got close to feeling like that with anyone else and the crazy thing is that it doesn’t scare me that I’m feeling like this now. At all. I always thought that everything was ultimately going to change when I meet someone who I really want to be with. How I have to make sure they understand who I am and what I do and having to hope they get along with my family and fitting into my life and me having to fit into theirs. And I mean, I have all that already. With you. So like, why should I be going around looking for someone that fits into my life the way you do when you already do that?”
Ryan looks up at Michael and for a few moments, they’re just shyly smiling each other, Michael rubbing his thumb along the back of Ryan’s hand.
“God, we’re cheesy.” Ryan says after a while and laughs.
“I think every relationship needs a little bit of cheesy every once in a while.”
“Relationship, huh?”
Michael bites his lip. “I guess. Or not?”
“Relationship sounds good.”
Ryan then moves over to straddle Michael’s thighs, pulling him in for a deep kiss. Michael wraps his arms around Ryan’s back, pressing him impossibly closer, holding on tight. They kiss slowly, knowing that they don’t have to go any further than that because there is plenty of time ahead for them.
They fall asleep tucked against each other, Ryan’s leg thrown over Michael and his face nuzzled against his collar bone, Michael’s lips against Ryan’s forehead.
*
Michael wakes up laying on his stomach, no longer tucked against Ryan. Ryan is laying next to him in a t-shirt and sweatpants, on top of the sheets, looking like he’d already been up earlier, but went back to bed and fell asleep again.
Michael gets out of bed, carefully to not wake Ryan. He thinks it may be time to finally shower, even though he still doesn’t want Ryan’s drawing to fade away. But he has the pictures to remember and it’s not like Ryan is going to disappear out of his life anytime soon.
Michael starts up the shower, but stops dead in his tracks when he catches something on his back as he’s passing the mirror. He turns around to look and sees that Ryan has drawn on him again, this time over his entire back, something he must’ve done while Michael was still asleep. Michael twists and turns, but he can’t really make out most of the things that Ryan has drawn.
Michael turns off the shower and makes his way back into the bedroom, getting back into bed next to the still sleeping Ryan. He runs his hand across Ryan’s arm and brings his mouth close to Ryan’s ear, kissing behind it. Ryan stirs awake.
“Good morning, babe.”
“Morning.” Ryan mumbles into his pillow, eyes still closed, with a smile on his face.
“I was just about to get into the shower.”
Ryan’s eyes snap open at that.
Michael laughs against his skin. “I saw it before I could do any damage.”
“Like it?”
“I can’t really see most of it.”
“Lay down.”
Michael does as he’s told, laying down on his stomach, as Ryan moves to straddle him. He starts running his fingers over the things he’s drawn, outlining each one of them, as he tells Michael what they are.
“This is an airplane.” His fingers slide over the skin of Michael’s shoulder, “Because like, by now we probably should totally have our own airline because we travel so much. And I mean, I wouldn’t want you to leave Baltimore for me and honestly, I can’t deal with the winters up here so I think for most of the year, there will still be a lot of planes in our future.”
“I wouldn’t mind being in Florida.” Michael responds, letting out a sigh as Ryan kisses his shoulder.
“Good. Because here” He moves his fingers over to Michael’s other shoulder, “there’s Carter, Herman and Stella. Because seriously dude, they need to hang out more. Carter and Stella would make the cutest puppies. And I’m sure we can find a nice lady for Herman. Or a dude if he’s into that.”
Michael chuckles. “Are you trying to set up my dogs?”
“Everyone in your life deserves happiness. That includes your dogs.”
Michael doesn’t respond and focuses on Ryan’s hands as they’re moving to the middle of his back. It seems to be the center piece of the drawing, the biggest in size.
“This is Rio.” Ryan explains. “There’s the pool.” He drags his finger along in a straight line across Michael’s back before running them in a square a little above that. “This is the scoreboard and my name is at the top and I’ve beaten LeClos and the Clary and all of France.”
“All of them in one race?”
“Are you arguing against my fantasy, Phelps?” Ryan pinches Michael’s side.
“Wouldn’t dream of it. What else?”
Ryan’s fingers slide over to the other side of Michael’s back. “Here’s the crowd and they’re all cheering because I kicked so much ass. And there’s a banner that says ‘Team Lochte’ and here …” he circles a spot on Michael’s back, “This is you. Or well, it’s a stick figure, but with really long arms and it’s meant to be you.” He leans down and whispers into Michael’s ear. “I want you with me in Rio. I want you to see me race. And not like, as Michael Phelps, greatest Olympian of all time. I don’t want you there because you have to be there for TV or something. I want you there as my boyfriend or fiancé or fuck it, maybe even my husband. As part of my family.”
Michael turns his head and kisses Ryan, moving a little so Ryan slides off him and lays down beside him again.
“I’d love to be in Rio. As yours.” he says against Ryan’s lips and feels them curve into a smile.
“I mean, it’s still quite some time away, but like, I’m sure about this, Mike. I’m not messing around. I want us to have a future.”
Michael just nods. “Me too.”
Michael kisses Ryan again and pulls him in closer, his hand running down Ryan’s back and squeezing his ass, pushing their groins against each other. Ryan moans into his mouth and starts grinding against Michael almost automatically.
It doesn’t take long until Ryan feels Michael get hard against him and he easily slips his hand into Michael’s pants and starts to stroke him. It makes Michael break the kiss and he leans his forehead against Ryan’s shoulder and looks down at Ryan’s hand moving inside his pants.
“Ryan, I … oh god.” he moans against Ryan’s skin, “Wanna feel you, Ryan.”
Ryan stops the movements of his hand and looks at Michael. “Yeah?”
Michael just nods and thrusts into Ryan’s hand again.
“Do you have … like, we’re gonna need …”
Michael blindly reaches over to the drawer of his nightstand and fumbles around there for a bit before he produces condoms and lube.
“Really now?” Ryan asks. Michael blushes a little which Ryan finds somewhat twisted considering he is currently holding Michael’s dick in his hand.
“I was hoping this was going to happen eventually, so … yeah.”
“God, you’re amazing.”
Ryan kisses Michael again and starts tugging at Michael’s pants until Michael sits up and pulls them off. He runs his eyes down Ryan’s body, still clothed next to him.
“You can’t stay like this.”
“Are you gonna do anything about it?” He winks at Michael.
Without saying a word, Michael reaches for the hem of Ryan’s t-shirt and tugs it above his head before pushing at Ryan until he is spread out on his back. He runs his hands across Ryan’s chest, mesmerised by the fact that he can do just that whenever he wants from now on.
“God, how are you even real?” Michael says more to himself than to Ryan.
Ryan smiles up at Michael and pulls him down again, resuming their kiss. Michael’s hands find Ryan’s pants and he pulls them down a little. Ryan sits up and wriggles them off before he scoots back on the bed until he’s leaning with his back against the headboard, pulling Michael into his lap.
“I wanna do it like this.” he whispers against Michael’s lips, “You on top of me.”
Michael just nods before bringing his hand down inbetween their bodies, holding onto both their dicks, stroking up and down.
Ryan leans his head back and groans as Michael is moving his hand a little faster. “Babe, you gotta slow down or I’m gonna come before we even get to the good stuff.”
Michael locks their lips again and slows down his hand into an easy rhythm. His other hand reaches for the lube he had dumped onto the mattress earlier and presses it into Ryan’s hand.
Without breaking their kiss Ryan pops open the little tube and gets some of the lube onto his hand. He wraps his other arm a little tighter around Michael as he lets his finger ghost around near his opening. He slowly pushes the tip of his finger inside, stopping as Michael makes a strangled sound and breaks their kiss.
“Okay?” Ryan asks.
Michael nods. “Keep going.”
Ryan pushes his finger in further and starts curving it just a little, keeping his eyes on Michael’s face for any sign of discomfort. But then Michael starts to push back against his finger and for a moment, Ryan can’t breathe because the combination of Michael’s hand on his dick and his finger inside Michael and Michael’s shallow breaths against his skin seems like too much all at once.
“More, Ryan. Come on.”
Michael’s voice brings Ryan back to reality and when he blinks, there’s Michael’s eyes right in front of him, fixed on him. He pushes himself off of Ryan’s finger and then reaches his arm around until he gets a hold of Ryan’s hand. He moves Ryan’s fingers around until only two of them are outstretched and then slides back down, eyes squeezed shut and biting his lip.
Ryan lets Michael set the pace, rubbing his thumb along Michael’s lower back as Michael stops his other hand that is still wrapped around both their cocks. He kisses along Michael’s jawline until he feels Michael relax a little against him. He moves his fingers again, curving the tips a little when suddenly Michael lets out a moan and his grip around them tightens as if on reflex.
Ryan smiles against Michael’s skin, letting his tongue dart out at the sweat that starts pooling along Michael’s neck, making sure to brush his fingers against the same spot inside Michael whenever he slides down.
“Get the condom.” Michael pants after a while.
Ryan’s pulling away to look back up at Michael. “You sure?”
Michael just nods. “Need you, Ryan. Please.”
Ryan pulls his fingers out of Michael and reaches for the condom. He rips open the package and just as he’s about to bat Michael’s hand away to slide it on, Michael beats him to it.
Michael keeps one hand against the headboard of the bed and holds onto the base of Ryan’s dick with the other while Ryan holds tightly onto Michael’s hips, guiding him up a little. He looks into Michael’s eyes and wants to ask him if he’s ready, but before he can say it, Michael just nods and crushes his lips against Ryan’s as he’s slowly pushing down against Ryan’s cock.
When his tip breaches Michael’s tight entrance, Ryan swears his mind whites out for a moment. It’s like all his senses are switched off and all he’s left to do is feel as he’s slowly entering Michael.
Michael is moving down painfully slow and once Ryan’s fully inside of him, stops altogether, breathing heavily, trying to get used to the feeling. Ryan starts kissing him again and reaches down to wrap his hand around Michael’s dick, starting to stroke him slowly. Michael picks up his movement on Ryan’s cock a moment later bucking forward into his hand.
When Michael starts to move a little faster, Ryan picks up his movements as well, thrusting a little harder against Michael whenever he moves down. Michael keeps breathing out Ryan’s name and a random words and moans. He leans a little forward and when Ryan’s hips meet his on the next thrust, Michael lets out a louder moan and bites down on Ryan’s shoulder as he continues to move. His hand scrambles forward and he joins Ryan’s around his dick, stroking furiously, getting closer and closer to the edge.
“Come on, Babe. Come for me, come on.” Ryan says against Michael’s ear, sucking down on the skin and it’s like the words are all Michael needed to hear, as he’s coming over both their hands almost immediately.
Ryan looks down and he sees Michael’s come seeping through their joined hands and Michael is breathing heavily into his ear, feeling his lips smooth over the bitemarks he left just seconds earlier and that’s all it takes to make him come inside Michael.
Michael starts to slow his movements down and leans back in to kiss Ryan. It’s slow and lazy and when they break the kiss, Michael is leaning his forehead against Ryan and smiles tiredly as he moves off of Ryan.
“Wow.” he says, still out of breath.
“Likewise.” Ryan replies, stealing a kiss again, “You were so hot, Babe. Jesus.”
Michael has no idea how to reply to that, so he just keeps kissing Ryan and flops back down on the bed, looking up at him.
Ryan smiles down at Michael until an idea seems to strike him. “Hey, I forgot something. Turn back around?”
Michael looks confused for a second, but then sees Ryan pick up the pen from the nightstand and the turns back around onto his stomach. Ryan straddles the back of his thighs and uncaps the pen.
“Property … of …” he reads aloud as he keeps moving the pen on Michael’s ass. “Ryan Lochte. There, now it’s done!”
Michael cranes his neck. “Did you really just sign my ass?”
Ryan giggles and lays down next to Michael. “Just to be safe.”
“No need.” Michael says, “I’m all yours. Even though you’re a weirdo.”
“Your weirdo, right?”
“Totally mine. But I’m not gonna write it on your chest.”
“Too bad. Cause that’d be totally tattoo worthy.”
Michael chuckles. “Freak.”
Ryan pulls Michael closer, bringing their lips together again. “You love it.”
Michael runs his hands down Ryan’s back and settles against him, sighing contently. “I do, actually.”