It's You
Title: It's You
Author: saar_fantasy
Pairing: Michael Phelps/Ryan Lochte
Rating: PG
Warnings: buh? the POV maybe...
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the people used in this fic. The words and the plot are mine.
Summary: You're both hurting. If only you knew a way to make it stop.
You watch him throw himself into the nightlife of Baltimore while he's visiting you again, at least once every month. It's already hard to see pictures of him online when he's partying, but this is even worse.
You watch how he throws himself between all the all too willing people, doesn't matter if they're male or female, they all want to dance with him. Want to feel his hot, sexy body pressed against their own.
You can't blame them. You would want him to press up against you too, but you're not that much of a dancer, so you just watch him with your beer in your hand.
You know he's glancing over at you from time to time, but you try to ignore him. Try to ignore the pang of jealousy you feel everytime he's grinding against someone else. Someone that isn't you.
You know you're the one he'll go home with at the end of the night/early in the morning and it's enough. It has to be.
Except that it really isn't.
--++--
You're both sprawled out on your bed next to each other. Both sweaty and sticky, but both too blissed out to even care.
You turn on your side to face him and he wraps an arm over your waist while you move closer to him to share more body heath. Just to be as close as you can, for as long as it'll last.
He's leaving you again in the afternoon, so you know you'll barely have a few hours to get some rest because you know you won't be able to sleep at all.
You stare into his eyes and see the love and devotion, but also the pain...the sadness. It tugs at your heartstrings, and not in a good way.
You know it's your fault. Know that with one word from you, one simple word -or maybe three-, he'll change the way he's acting. Change his whole life for you, but you can't. You can't get yourself to say it.
Instead you let yourself by watching him throw himself from one one night stand to the other while he's in Florida and you're stuck in Maryland.
He knows you're thinking, and worrying, again because he lifts a hand up to your face, cups your cheek and gently thraces the outlines with his thumb.
"It's all up to you, you know." he says softly, and boy, don't you know that's true.
You know that if only you could create the balls that would let you say a big fuck you to the world and just be together with him, then all of this wouldn't have to happen in secret.
You wouldn't have to blame yourself everytime you see that hurt look cross his face. He tries to hide from you, but you notice. And he wouldn't have to give himself to other people in front of the eyes of the world, just because he can't have you. Only in secret.
You're both hurting. If only you knew a way to make it stop.
"I know,' you whisper and nuzzle into his shoulder, hiding the tears that are gathering in your eyes. "I know."
You both lay there, holding each other. You can feel him tracing invisible patterns on your back until he falls asleep.
You don't sleep because your guilt won't let you. If only you could say the right words...
--++--
You're both standing in front of his boarding gate, people watching you both because they all recognize you of course.
You just look at each other in silence, just like the drive over there had been in silence too; except for the radio.
You realize this is a good time to say the words. You know you'll have to make a choice.
Him or your 'image' the world has of you. It shouldn't be that hard; but it somehow is.
He's looking at you in that same way again. A look that's a mixture of love and pain and fuck if it doesn't make you want to grab him and hold him tight. Doesn't make you wish you could make his pain and doubts disappear.
"Well, it was fun." he says and you know he's trying hard to hold back on all of his emotions. "I'll see you around, MP."
He's giving you a quick hug and you try to hold on, but he pulls away too soon. He gives you a sad little smile, so unlike his usual smile, so unlike him. Then he turns around to walk into the gate.
And then it hits you; You can't let him go like that. Can't let him leave and practically feel his heart break one more time.
You grab him by the wrist and he turns around in surprise. Before he can ask anything you're pressed up against him, your lips pressed against his.
You can hear the murmurs and gasps around you, the sound of cameras going off, but you don't care. He's smiling against your lips and that's the only thing that matters right now.
You finally pull away to let you both catch your breath, although it feels too soon, and he's staring at you, his eyes crinkling with his smile. He cocks his head to the side a little and you know he's asking you a silent question.
"It's you." you say as you watch his eyes flare up with so much emotion you can barely breathe. "I want you." you say, as if you need to clarify yourself some more.
He lets out a noise, something between a laugh and a sob, then pulls you in and kisses you again.
All doubts are erased, the clouds of worry have disappeared because you know erverything will be alright now you can have him at your side. Now that you don't have to be each other's dirty little secret anymore.
You made the right choice.
For once in a long while, life finally feels good; feels right again.
Author: saar_fantasy
Pairing: Michael Phelps/Ryan Lochte
Rating: PG
Warnings: buh? the POV maybe...
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the people used in this fic. The words and the plot are mine.
Summary: You're both hurting. If only you knew a way to make it stop.
You watch him throw himself into the nightlife of Baltimore while he's visiting you again, at least once every month. It's already hard to see pictures of him online when he's partying, but this is even worse.
You watch how he throws himself between all the all too willing people, doesn't matter if they're male or female, they all want to dance with him. Want to feel his hot, sexy body pressed against their own.
You can't blame them. You would want him to press up against you too, but you're not that much of a dancer, so you just watch him with your beer in your hand.
You know he's glancing over at you from time to time, but you try to ignore him. Try to ignore the pang of jealousy you feel everytime he's grinding against someone else. Someone that isn't you.
You know you're the one he'll go home with at the end of the night/early in the morning and it's enough. It has to be.
Except that it really isn't.
--++--
You're both sprawled out on your bed next to each other. Both sweaty and sticky, but both too blissed out to even care.
You turn on your side to face him and he wraps an arm over your waist while you move closer to him to share more body heath. Just to be as close as you can, for as long as it'll last.
He's leaving you again in the afternoon, so you know you'll barely have a few hours to get some rest because you know you won't be able to sleep at all.
You stare into his eyes and see the love and devotion, but also the pain...the sadness. It tugs at your heartstrings, and not in a good way.
You know it's your fault. Know that with one word from you, one simple word -or maybe three-, he'll change the way he's acting. Change his whole life for you, but you can't. You can't get yourself to say it.
Instead you let yourself by watching him throw himself from one one night stand to the other while he's in Florida and you're stuck in Maryland.
He knows you're thinking, and worrying, again because he lifts a hand up to your face, cups your cheek and gently thraces the outlines with his thumb.
"It's all up to you, you know." he says softly, and boy, don't you know that's true.
You know that if only you could create the balls that would let you say a big fuck you to the world and just be together with him, then all of this wouldn't have to happen in secret.
You wouldn't have to blame yourself everytime you see that hurt look cross his face. He tries to hide from you, but you notice. And he wouldn't have to give himself to other people in front of the eyes of the world, just because he can't have you. Only in secret.
You're both hurting. If only you knew a way to make it stop.
"I know,' you whisper and nuzzle into his shoulder, hiding the tears that are gathering in your eyes. "I know."
You both lay there, holding each other. You can feel him tracing invisible patterns on your back until he falls asleep.
You don't sleep because your guilt won't let you. If only you could say the right words...
--++--
You're both standing in front of his boarding gate, people watching you both because they all recognize you of course.
You just look at each other in silence, just like the drive over there had been in silence too; except for the radio.
You realize this is a good time to say the words. You know you'll have to make a choice.
Him or your 'image' the world has of you. It shouldn't be that hard; but it somehow is.
He's looking at you in that same way again. A look that's a mixture of love and pain and fuck if it doesn't make you want to grab him and hold him tight. Doesn't make you wish you could make his pain and doubts disappear.
"Well, it was fun." he says and you know he's trying hard to hold back on all of his emotions. "I'll see you around, MP."
He's giving you a quick hug and you try to hold on, but he pulls away too soon. He gives you a sad little smile, so unlike his usual smile, so unlike him. Then he turns around to walk into the gate.
And then it hits you; You can't let him go like that. Can't let him leave and practically feel his heart break one more time.
You grab him by the wrist and he turns around in surprise. Before he can ask anything you're pressed up against him, your lips pressed against his.
You can hear the murmurs and gasps around you, the sound of cameras going off, but you don't care. He's smiling against your lips and that's the only thing that matters right now.
You finally pull away to let you both catch your breath, although it feels too soon, and he's staring at you, his eyes crinkling with his smile. He cocks his head to the side a little and you know he's asking you a silent question.
"It's you." you say as you watch his eyes flare up with so much emotion you can barely breathe. "I want you." you say, as if you need to clarify yourself some more.
He lets out a noise, something between a laugh and a sob, then pulls you in and kisses you again.
All doubts are erased, the clouds of worry have disappeared because you know erverything will be alright now you can have him at your side. Now that you don't have to be each other's dirty little secret anymore.
You made the right choice.
For once in a long while, life finally feels good; feels right again.