Silly Boy, can't you see? (Michael Phelps/ Ryan Lochte)
Title: Silly boy, can't you see?
Rating: M
Pairing: Michael Phelps/Ryan Lochte
Summary: Written for a prompt on Olympic Ficathon part 2. Michael and Ryan want each other and it's throwing off their game so they decide to have one night and go back to being friends. Turns out they love each other.
Disclaimer: Explicit sex, swearing, don't own, none of this happened.
Michael slammed his locker closed, listening to the sound of the metal reverberating in the empty locker room. No one came to the pool much before 7 am usually. He wasn’t surprised that he was alone and he was thankful for it.
He pressed his back to the cool tile wall and slid down it, coming to sit on the floor and wrapping his arms around his knees. His mind was racing and his heart was pounding and he was finding it hard to catch his breath.
“Fuck Michael, get your head in the game. Get over it. Get over him. You can’t do this to yourself, not now, not here. You can’t afford it. Fuck.”
Michael mumbled to himself as he brought his head to rest on his arms tiredly. He felt like he hadn’t slept in weeks. When he swam, his arms felt like lead, his legs barely felt coordinated, and his times showed it.
Bob had been all over his case for the last few weeks, screaming, coercing, trying every technique in the coaching handbook to get Michael’s times to improve. Nothing had worked and his times had continued their steady decline.
Slamming his fist into the ground in frustration, Michael stood up and began pacing back and forth. This wasn’t like him, he didn’t do unfocused. No, he was Michael fucking Phelps, the king of focus, the master of goal sheets and lists and lap times and records. Ryan was the unfocused one, Ryan…
Michael swore under his breath as that name crept back into his thoughts. No, he wasn’t going to think about Ryan anymore. He was the reason Michael was in this situation in the first place. Ryan Lochte, with his easy-going attitude and his tan skin and his blue eyes and his perfect smile. Ryan Lochte, who was everything that Michael had ever denied himself. He was all fun-loving and partying and perfection. And Michael couldn’t have that; he couldn’t. But oh did he want it.
“Fuck!” Michael yelled louder, listening to the sound of his desperate voice echoing off the walls and fading into the silence. He was going insane, between the dreams, the thoughts, and the pictures. He fell asleep to thoughts of Ryan, naked and spread out beneath him, begging to be fucked, dreamt of Ryan’s long, hard cock sunk deep inside him and himself calling out Ryan’s name in desperation, so close to his orgasm, and woke up with the taste of Ryan’s lips on his tongue, the cries of his name being heard only by an empty room. His whole life no longer revolved around his goal list and his lap times and his last Olympics ever. His whole life was consumed by Ryan Lochte. And it was slowly tearing him apart.
Grabbing his bag, Michael slipped his shoes on and headed for his car.
“Good morning sir, what can I do for you?”
Michael looked down at his hands and shuffled his feet awkwardly for a second before regaining his resolve. He brought his eyes back up and squared his shoulders, handing his ID and credit card to the lady behind the counter.
“One ticket to Gainesville, thanks.”
“Ryan wake up! You’re at practice, the Olympics are right around the corner, and that whole last set looked like you were asleep! If you weren’t, you might as well have been, you’re times were so bad. Get your head in the game!”
Ryan hoisted himself out of the pool and removed his goggles, frustrated with himself. This wasn’t like him, he didn’t worry, he didn’t let things get to him, and he especially didn’t let anything interrupt his swimming. But fucking Michael Phelps had managed to work his way into Ryan’s mind and refused to get out, making everything else impossible.
“Sorry Greg, I just…I like, I don’t know.” Greg just sighed and shook his head.
“I think we’re done for today. I’ll see you tomorrow. Get some rest.” Ryan nodded and grabbed his towel, heading for the locker room.
Even when he wasn’t in the pool with Ryan, Michael managed to screw him up. Ryan rubbed his eyes tiredly, suddenly feeling exhausted. His lap times had been shit, he hadn’t been able to sleep, and his thoughts were filled with images of Michael, naked, wet, and coming undone from the touch of Ryan’s hands running all over his body.
Ryan had decided long ago that the only way to cure himself was to fuck Michael but shit, that’d be so awkward. How was someone supposed to bring that idea up to their best friend and rival?
Ryan laughed bitterly, thinking about how that would go. “Hey Mike, I know we’re just friends but I want to fuck you so hard, hard enough that I’ll forget my obsession with you. Then we can go back to normal.” He groaned and showered and changed, deciding to head home.
Turning down his street, Ryan’s brows furrowed in confusion. There was a taxi idling outside of his house. Ryan pulled into his driveway, shutting off the engine and getting out, walking over to the taxi to see who was here. If he’d been expecting anyone, it certainly wasn’t Michael Phelps, his overly tall body trying to get out of the taxi, throwing a handful of bills to the driver.
“Mike! Bro what’re you doin’ here?”
Ryan threw himself at Michael in a bear hug, choosing to ignore Michael’s scent, the way his under bite drove Ryan crazy, the urge to nibble on his ears while saying x-rated things to him. Ryan just coughed and pulled Michael in tighter, noticing that the other man wasn’t returning the hug.
“Uh…hey Ry. Can, can we go inside?” Ryan nodded confused, gesturing for Michael to follow him inside.
Once the door was closed, Ryan turned around to repeat his question but was instead met with an armful of Michael Phelps, the other man’s lips finding his own in an instant, covering them in a sloppy but passionate kiss. Ryan felt himself reacting, moving closer to Michael, finally giving in to the urge to cover every inch of his flesh with Michael’s.
They broke apart panting, Michael’s brown eyes staring intently into Ryan’s own half-lidded blue ones.
“I…I’ve wanted this…wanted you for so long, Ry.” Ryan nodded dumbly, mind slightly hazy from the kiss and the fact that the majority of his blood had left his brain and was flowing south.
“Less talking, more fucking.” Michael didn’t seem to mind that Ryan was less than articulate and joined their mouths again. Ryan managed to regain control of the situation, gaining entrance into Michael’s mouth, running his tongue over Michael’s, savoring the taste of the other man.
After a few minutes of making out against the door, Michael pulled away again. “So, what is this?” Ryan thought for a second, “Just one night, jeah? Then we’re back to being friends.” Michael nodded, “Jeah man.”
They barely managed to make it to Ryan’s bed before they were back at each other’s throats, Michael nibbling his way down Ryan’s jaw, deciding that he was particularly fascinated with the soft skin covering Ryan’s Adam’s apple. Michael sucked the bulge into his mouth, biting down and eliciting a sharp gasp from Ryan.
“Nyyyahh Mike, hand, dick, now.”
Michael obliged, wanting to get to the main event as much as Ryan. He quickly shoved Ryan’s shorts off, figuring that after years of deck changes and shared rooms he had a pretty good idea of what to expect from Ryan’s body. However, seeing it in passing was nothing compared to seeing the full length of Ryan’s erection during sex.
Before he could talk himself out of it, Michael knelt down and took Ryan’s dick in his mouth, choking slightly as he tried to get used to the length. He had no idea what he was doing so he just decided to wing it.
Taking as much of Ryan into his mouth as he could, Michael hummed, swirling his tongue around the base before working his way up to the tip and licking at the slit.
If the sounds coming out of Ryan’s mouth were anything to go by, Michael guessed that he was doing a good job. Ryan grabbed at Michael’s short hair and gasped as Michael licked at his balls, watching as they tensed up under his ministrations. He licked the vain running up the underside of Ryan’s dick before swallowing him whole again, sucking and humming.
Ryan gasped as he felt his body tighten up, “Mike, I’m…I’m gonna cum.” Michael just looked up into Ryan’s eyes and kept sucking. In the moment that Ryan came, he made direct eye contact with Michael, shooting his load into the other swimmer’s mouth. Michael just swallowed every drop before standing up and smashing their lips together again. Ryan didn’t even care that he could taste himself on Michael’s tongue, he just wanted more Michael.
Michael quickly rid Ryan of his shirt, stopping for a moment to admire Ryan in all his glory. However, Ryan wasn’t really in the mood to be patient and swiftly reattached their lips, shoving Michael’s basketball shorts and boxers down in one go before practically tearing the fabric in his effort to get Michael’s shirt off.
When they were both naked, Ryan pulled Michael down onto the bed, moaning as Michael brought his naked body up to cover Ryan’s own. They were both hard as rocks and the feeling of their naked erections on top of one another was almost too much for Ryan.
“Ah Mike, please. Now.” Michael nodded and reached for the lube and a condom out of Ryan’s bedside drawer. He spread a liberal amount of lube on three of his fingers, grabbing one of Ryan’s legs to hook it over his shoulder, shifting the other man into what he hoped was a more comfortable position.
“You ok Ry?” Ryan nodded impatiently, grabbing Michael’s hand and putting it up to his ass. “I’m fine Mike just fuck me already.” He gestured to his weeping erection for emphasis and Michael nodded, gathering up all his courage and the fact that he had never wanted anything so badly in his life and plunging the first finger into the tight ring of muscles.
Ryan gasped, getting used to the intrusion. Michael waited for Ryan to get used to it before sliding it all the way and gently pumping it in and out. Before long he was able to add and second and a third, scissoring and prepping Ryan for what was to come. Crooking his fingers, Michael brushed against Ryan’s prostate.
The body beneath him surged as Ryan cried out in pleasure. “Fuck jeah Mike! Yes, ah fuck me!” Michael nodded, licking his lips and trying to swallow, finding his mouth had gone dry.
Extracting his fingers, Michael rolled the condom onto his dick and lubed it up before positioning himself at Ryan’s entrance. Looking down for confirmation, Michael slid in, burying himself in the tight, wet heat.
Ryan hissed as Michael buried himself all the way up to the balls in Ryan’s tight ass. He waited a moment for Ryan to give him to go ahead. Ryan just nodded his head in a silent plea for Michael to move.
Michael just nodded, beginning to slowly slide in and out of Ryan, gasping at the feeling of being totally surrounded by such wonderful friction.
Ryan was moaning underneath him, his hands buried in the sheets and Michael sped up, setting a brutal pace and ramming his dick into Ryan, sweat rolling down his chest.
Deciding that the sheets weren’t enough to ground him, Ryan sat up, reaching for Michael’s back and digging his fingernails in. He clawed at Michael’s back as Michael thrust into him, both of them moving as one, their chests pressed together, arms entwined, fucking like no tomorrow.
Reaching between them, Michael grabbed Ryan’s neglected dick and began pumping him in time with his thrusts, taking pleasure in the feeling of Ryan’s fingernails digging even harder into his back, leaving dark, red scratches.
“Mike, ah Mike I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum.” Michael nodded his head, biting down on Ryan’s neck, sucking hard and leaving a dark bruise. Ryan was too far gone to even care that everyone would see that.
Michael thrust particularly hard and hit Ryan’s prostate. Ryan swore loudly as he came all over both of their chests, his hole tightening around Michael’s cock. With a few more thrusts, Michael came, spilling his seed into the condom.
He pulled out of Ryan, tying off the condom and leaning over to throw it in the trash. Ryan rolled over and looked at the ceiling, letting out a breath.
“Fuck man, that was, like, fuck.” Michael nodded, wiping the sweat off his face.
“Yeah bro, totally. So can I crash for a little while?” Ryan nodded moving over to let Michael have some space in the bed. Michael laid down and they both fell asleep.
A few hours later, Michael woke up to the sound of his phone buzzing. Rolling over, he checked the caller id. He grabbed the phone and tip-toed out of the room, trying not to wake Ryan up.
“Hey Bob. What? Yeah I’ll be at practice in the morning. Yeah, sure. Okay, see you then.” He hung up and checked the time. When he saw the time he swore quietly and headed back into the room, quickly dressing and grabbing his stuff.
Grabbing a pen and paper, Michael scribbled out a quick note for Ryan and set it on Ryan’s bedside table. He walked out quietly, shutting the door and calling a cab to take him to the airport.
After buying his ticket, Michael sat down in the waiting area, putting his head in his hands. He sat up again, wrapping his arms around himself, feeling like he was going to be sick. His heart hurt and his whole body felt empty. He thought back to Ryan laying in the bed and all the words he should have included in the letter. ‘Hey Ryan, just wanted you to know that that was more than just a quick fuck to me. Truth is, I love you.’ But Michael just shook his head, cause that would never work. His flight was called and Michael hoisted his bag up onto his shoulder, resolving that this was the end of it. He and Ryan could never be. And that was that.
As the plane took off Michael couldn’t help but wonder, what if?
Ryan woke up a few hours later, yawning and feeling a twinge of pain in his lower back. He smiled and rolled over to wake Michael up. Maybe he’d be up for round two?
However, when he rolled over he was greeted with the sight of nothing. Sitting up fully awake, Ryan looked around the room, finding no sign of the other man.
“Mike?” He called out, receiving only silence in return. Reaching over, Ryan flipped the light on, wondering if maybe Michael had just gone to take a shower, refusing to consider the alternative. Michael wouldn’t have just fucked and run. They were friends; Ryan meant more to him than that.
However, when Ryan flipped the light on, he caught sight of something sitting on the table. It was a note.
Ry,
Headed back to B-More for training before Bob skins my ass. Hope to see you soon. Come up when you have a break from training. I had fun. See you soon.
Mike
Ryan threw the note onto the floor, curling up on his bed and allowing the tears to flow. He couldn’t believe that after all of that, all he’d gotten was a lame note. “I had fun?” Ryan whispered angrily. He hugged his knees to his chest, indulging himself and letting himself cry.
“I had fun too Mike, cause guess what? I fucking love you buddy. Pretty fun huh?” Ryan laughed to himself in the silence of the room, his laughter only interrupted by the occasional sob.
Rating: M
Pairing: Michael Phelps/Ryan Lochte
Summary: Written for a prompt on Olympic Ficathon part 2. Michael and Ryan want each other and it's throwing off their game so they decide to have one night and go back to being friends. Turns out they love each other.
Disclaimer: Explicit sex, swearing, don't own, none of this happened.
Michael slammed his locker closed, listening to the sound of the metal reverberating in the empty locker room. No one came to the pool much before 7 am usually. He wasn’t surprised that he was alone and he was thankful for it.
He pressed his back to the cool tile wall and slid down it, coming to sit on the floor and wrapping his arms around his knees. His mind was racing and his heart was pounding and he was finding it hard to catch his breath.
“Fuck Michael, get your head in the game. Get over it. Get over him. You can’t do this to yourself, not now, not here. You can’t afford it. Fuck.”
Michael mumbled to himself as he brought his head to rest on his arms tiredly. He felt like he hadn’t slept in weeks. When he swam, his arms felt like lead, his legs barely felt coordinated, and his times showed it.
Bob had been all over his case for the last few weeks, screaming, coercing, trying every technique in the coaching handbook to get Michael’s times to improve. Nothing had worked and his times had continued their steady decline.
Slamming his fist into the ground in frustration, Michael stood up and began pacing back and forth. This wasn’t like him, he didn’t do unfocused. No, he was Michael fucking Phelps, the king of focus, the master of goal sheets and lists and lap times and records. Ryan was the unfocused one, Ryan…
Michael swore under his breath as that name crept back into his thoughts. No, he wasn’t going to think about Ryan anymore. He was the reason Michael was in this situation in the first place. Ryan Lochte, with his easy-going attitude and his tan skin and his blue eyes and his perfect smile. Ryan Lochte, who was everything that Michael had ever denied himself. He was all fun-loving and partying and perfection. And Michael couldn’t have that; he couldn’t. But oh did he want it.
“Fuck!” Michael yelled louder, listening to the sound of his desperate voice echoing off the walls and fading into the silence. He was going insane, between the dreams, the thoughts, and the pictures. He fell asleep to thoughts of Ryan, naked and spread out beneath him, begging to be fucked, dreamt of Ryan’s long, hard cock sunk deep inside him and himself calling out Ryan’s name in desperation, so close to his orgasm, and woke up with the taste of Ryan’s lips on his tongue, the cries of his name being heard only by an empty room. His whole life no longer revolved around his goal list and his lap times and his last Olympics ever. His whole life was consumed by Ryan Lochte. And it was slowly tearing him apart.
Grabbing his bag, Michael slipped his shoes on and headed for his car.
“Good morning sir, what can I do for you?”
Michael looked down at his hands and shuffled his feet awkwardly for a second before regaining his resolve. He brought his eyes back up and squared his shoulders, handing his ID and credit card to the lady behind the counter.
“One ticket to Gainesville, thanks.”
“Ryan wake up! You’re at practice, the Olympics are right around the corner, and that whole last set looked like you were asleep! If you weren’t, you might as well have been, you’re times were so bad. Get your head in the game!”
Ryan hoisted himself out of the pool and removed his goggles, frustrated with himself. This wasn’t like him, he didn’t worry, he didn’t let things get to him, and he especially didn’t let anything interrupt his swimming. But fucking Michael Phelps had managed to work his way into Ryan’s mind and refused to get out, making everything else impossible.
“Sorry Greg, I just…I like, I don’t know.” Greg just sighed and shook his head.
“I think we’re done for today. I’ll see you tomorrow. Get some rest.” Ryan nodded and grabbed his towel, heading for the locker room.
Even when he wasn’t in the pool with Ryan, Michael managed to screw him up. Ryan rubbed his eyes tiredly, suddenly feeling exhausted. His lap times had been shit, he hadn’t been able to sleep, and his thoughts were filled with images of Michael, naked, wet, and coming undone from the touch of Ryan’s hands running all over his body.
Ryan had decided long ago that the only way to cure himself was to fuck Michael but shit, that’d be so awkward. How was someone supposed to bring that idea up to their best friend and rival?
Ryan laughed bitterly, thinking about how that would go. “Hey Mike, I know we’re just friends but I want to fuck you so hard, hard enough that I’ll forget my obsession with you. Then we can go back to normal.” He groaned and showered and changed, deciding to head home.
Turning down his street, Ryan’s brows furrowed in confusion. There was a taxi idling outside of his house. Ryan pulled into his driveway, shutting off the engine and getting out, walking over to the taxi to see who was here. If he’d been expecting anyone, it certainly wasn’t Michael Phelps, his overly tall body trying to get out of the taxi, throwing a handful of bills to the driver.
“Mike! Bro what’re you doin’ here?”
Ryan threw himself at Michael in a bear hug, choosing to ignore Michael’s scent, the way his under bite drove Ryan crazy, the urge to nibble on his ears while saying x-rated things to him. Ryan just coughed and pulled Michael in tighter, noticing that the other man wasn’t returning the hug.
“Uh…hey Ry. Can, can we go inside?” Ryan nodded confused, gesturing for Michael to follow him inside.
Once the door was closed, Ryan turned around to repeat his question but was instead met with an armful of Michael Phelps, the other man’s lips finding his own in an instant, covering them in a sloppy but passionate kiss. Ryan felt himself reacting, moving closer to Michael, finally giving in to the urge to cover every inch of his flesh with Michael’s.
They broke apart panting, Michael’s brown eyes staring intently into Ryan’s own half-lidded blue ones.
“I…I’ve wanted this…wanted you for so long, Ry.” Ryan nodded dumbly, mind slightly hazy from the kiss and the fact that the majority of his blood had left his brain and was flowing south.
“Less talking, more fucking.” Michael didn’t seem to mind that Ryan was less than articulate and joined their mouths again. Ryan managed to regain control of the situation, gaining entrance into Michael’s mouth, running his tongue over Michael’s, savoring the taste of the other man.
After a few minutes of making out against the door, Michael pulled away again. “So, what is this?” Ryan thought for a second, “Just one night, jeah? Then we’re back to being friends.” Michael nodded, “Jeah man.”
They barely managed to make it to Ryan’s bed before they were back at each other’s throats, Michael nibbling his way down Ryan’s jaw, deciding that he was particularly fascinated with the soft skin covering Ryan’s Adam’s apple. Michael sucked the bulge into his mouth, biting down and eliciting a sharp gasp from Ryan.
“Nyyyahh Mike, hand, dick, now.”
Michael obliged, wanting to get to the main event as much as Ryan. He quickly shoved Ryan’s shorts off, figuring that after years of deck changes and shared rooms he had a pretty good idea of what to expect from Ryan’s body. However, seeing it in passing was nothing compared to seeing the full length of Ryan’s erection during sex.
Before he could talk himself out of it, Michael knelt down and took Ryan’s dick in his mouth, choking slightly as he tried to get used to the length. He had no idea what he was doing so he just decided to wing it.
Taking as much of Ryan into his mouth as he could, Michael hummed, swirling his tongue around the base before working his way up to the tip and licking at the slit.
If the sounds coming out of Ryan’s mouth were anything to go by, Michael guessed that he was doing a good job. Ryan grabbed at Michael’s short hair and gasped as Michael licked at his balls, watching as they tensed up under his ministrations. He licked the vain running up the underside of Ryan’s dick before swallowing him whole again, sucking and humming.
Ryan gasped as he felt his body tighten up, “Mike, I’m…I’m gonna cum.” Michael just looked up into Ryan’s eyes and kept sucking. In the moment that Ryan came, he made direct eye contact with Michael, shooting his load into the other swimmer’s mouth. Michael just swallowed every drop before standing up and smashing their lips together again. Ryan didn’t even care that he could taste himself on Michael’s tongue, he just wanted more Michael.
Michael quickly rid Ryan of his shirt, stopping for a moment to admire Ryan in all his glory. However, Ryan wasn’t really in the mood to be patient and swiftly reattached their lips, shoving Michael’s basketball shorts and boxers down in one go before practically tearing the fabric in his effort to get Michael’s shirt off.
When they were both naked, Ryan pulled Michael down onto the bed, moaning as Michael brought his naked body up to cover Ryan’s own. They were both hard as rocks and the feeling of their naked erections on top of one another was almost too much for Ryan.
“Ah Mike, please. Now.” Michael nodded and reached for the lube and a condom out of Ryan’s bedside drawer. He spread a liberal amount of lube on three of his fingers, grabbing one of Ryan’s legs to hook it over his shoulder, shifting the other man into what he hoped was a more comfortable position.
“You ok Ry?” Ryan nodded impatiently, grabbing Michael’s hand and putting it up to his ass. “I’m fine Mike just fuck me already.” He gestured to his weeping erection for emphasis and Michael nodded, gathering up all his courage and the fact that he had never wanted anything so badly in his life and plunging the first finger into the tight ring of muscles.
Ryan gasped, getting used to the intrusion. Michael waited for Ryan to get used to it before sliding it all the way and gently pumping it in and out. Before long he was able to add and second and a third, scissoring and prepping Ryan for what was to come. Crooking his fingers, Michael brushed against Ryan’s prostate.
The body beneath him surged as Ryan cried out in pleasure. “Fuck jeah Mike! Yes, ah fuck me!” Michael nodded, licking his lips and trying to swallow, finding his mouth had gone dry.
Extracting his fingers, Michael rolled the condom onto his dick and lubed it up before positioning himself at Ryan’s entrance. Looking down for confirmation, Michael slid in, burying himself in the tight, wet heat.
Ryan hissed as Michael buried himself all the way up to the balls in Ryan’s tight ass. He waited a moment for Ryan to give him to go ahead. Ryan just nodded his head in a silent plea for Michael to move.
Michael just nodded, beginning to slowly slide in and out of Ryan, gasping at the feeling of being totally surrounded by such wonderful friction.
Ryan was moaning underneath him, his hands buried in the sheets and Michael sped up, setting a brutal pace and ramming his dick into Ryan, sweat rolling down his chest.
Deciding that the sheets weren’t enough to ground him, Ryan sat up, reaching for Michael’s back and digging his fingernails in. He clawed at Michael’s back as Michael thrust into him, both of them moving as one, their chests pressed together, arms entwined, fucking like no tomorrow.
Reaching between them, Michael grabbed Ryan’s neglected dick and began pumping him in time with his thrusts, taking pleasure in the feeling of Ryan’s fingernails digging even harder into his back, leaving dark, red scratches.
“Mike, ah Mike I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum.” Michael nodded his head, biting down on Ryan’s neck, sucking hard and leaving a dark bruise. Ryan was too far gone to even care that everyone would see that.
Michael thrust particularly hard and hit Ryan’s prostate. Ryan swore loudly as he came all over both of their chests, his hole tightening around Michael’s cock. With a few more thrusts, Michael came, spilling his seed into the condom.
He pulled out of Ryan, tying off the condom and leaning over to throw it in the trash. Ryan rolled over and looked at the ceiling, letting out a breath.
“Fuck man, that was, like, fuck.” Michael nodded, wiping the sweat off his face.
“Yeah bro, totally. So can I crash for a little while?” Ryan nodded moving over to let Michael have some space in the bed. Michael laid down and they both fell asleep.
A few hours later, Michael woke up to the sound of his phone buzzing. Rolling over, he checked the caller id. He grabbed the phone and tip-toed out of the room, trying not to wake Ryan up.
“Hey Bob. What? Yeah I’ll be at practice in the morning. Yeah, sure. Okay, see you then.” He hung up and checked the time. When he saw the time he swore quietly and headed back into the room, quickly dressing and grabbing his stuff.
Grabbing a pen and paper, Michael scribbled out a quick note for Ryan and set it on Ryan’s bedside table. He walked out quietly, shutting the door and calling a cab to take him to the airport.
After buying his ticket, Michael sat down in the waiting area, putting his head in his hands. He sat up again, wrapping his arms around himself, feeling like he was going to be sick. His heart hurt and his whole body felt empty. He thought back to Ryan laying in the bed and all the words he should have included in the letter. ‘Hey Ryan, just wanted you to know that that was more than just a quick fuck to me. Truth is, I love you.’ But Michael just shook his head, cause that would never work. His flight was called and Michael hoisted his bag up onto his shoulder, resolving that this was the end of it. He and Ryan could never be. And that was that.
As the plane took off Michael couldn’t help but wonder, what if?
Ryan woke up a few hours later, yawning and feeling a twinge of pain in his lower back. He smiled and rolled over to wake Michael up. Maybe he’d be up for round two?
However, when he rolled over he was greeted with the sight of nothing. Sitting up fully awake, Ryan looked around the room, finding no sign of the other man.
“Mike?” He called out, receiving only silence in return. Reaching over, Ryan flipped the light on, wondering if maybe Michael had just gone to take a shower, refusing to consider the alternative. Michael wouldn’t have just fucked and run. They were friends; Ryan meant more to him than that.
However, when Ryan flipped the light on, he caught sight of something sitting on the table. It was a note.
Ry,
Headed back to B-More for training before Bob skins my ass. Hope to see you soon. Come up when you have a break from training. I had fun. See you soon.
Mike
Ryan threw the note onto the floor, curling up on his bed and allowing the tears to flow. He couldn’t believe that after all of that, all he’d gotten was a lame note. “I had fun?” Ryan whispered angrily. He hugged his knees to his chest, indulging himself and letting himself cry.
“I had fun too Mike, cause guess what? I fucking love you buddy. Pretty fun huh?” Ryan laughed to himself in the silence of the room, his laughter only interrupted by the occasional sob.